The Boy in the Bookshop
by Unlabelled
Summary: Suffering from a severe lack of confidence and a whole lot of self-consciousness, Garrett doesn't think he could ever find anyone that could love him. But, like all bad things, this all changes when he meets a bright boy hiding a dark past… Garrett/Carlisle. Mild language warning.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello anyone who was brave enough to open this story. I see you have either wandered here by mistake, have too much time on your hands so you've exhausted all the fics you actually want to read, or I've found another lost soul who genuinely ships these characters ;)  
I've written a few chapters ahead, so I'm going to try for weekly updates, but so far my track-record hasn't been the best. I also don't have a beta at the moment, so all spelling mistakes are mine. Constructive criticism very welcome!**

Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad. Maybe, if I started running every morning and cut back on the sugar, it was salvageable. At least it was winter, which meant that putting on a little extra weight could be hidden under coats and considered acceptable. I still looked like shit though. I always looked like shit. No wanting to be confronted by my own image any more than I had to be, I avoided looking in the mirror as I brushed my teeth.

All too soon I was sitting in my car, clenching my jaw in frustration at the pace of the traffic; apparently rain turned every driver into a fucking moron. Of there was ever tax put in beeping your horn, I'd quickly be out of money. Paying for parking outside of work didn't help that matter, either.

"Mr Parker," my boss grumbled as I walked past the open door of his office. I supressed a sigh at his patronising tone. I didn't bother pulling him up on my name; I hated being called that, but he knew that full well. "You're late."

I glanced down at my watch. "Only by a minute, Sir."

"A minute every day is a lot by the end of the year, boy," he warned. "Get to your desk."

I groaned once I was far away enough for him to not hear it, dragging my feet as I headed to my seat. I was already counting the seconds until the end of the day.

On my lunch break, I wandered up the road. I was thankful that I'd shoved my umbrella in my car this morning it was blowing a gale, and the raindrops stung like little needles when they hit any exposed skin. My hands were freezing as I held onto it's handle, and I didn't really want to walk much further in this weather, trying to decide which shop I was going to duck into to take shelter for a few minutes.

The warmth of the bookshop drew me in. That, and I was sick of reading the same damn novel over and over again. Pacing the isles, I wasn't sure where to start; every shelf was densely packed which hundreds of titles, and the disorganisation of it had my brain spinning. Eventually, I resigned myself to having to ask a staff member for help, like some kind of lost child.

"Hi, um…" I trailed off, standing a few feet back from the counter, squeezing my hands behind my back to stop them from shaking. Unfortunately, it was the same guy I'd inflicted my awkwardness upon last time I'd brought something from here. I was surprised he hadn't banished me from the shop already. "…Can you help me, please…"

The boy behind the till smiled, glancing up at me. "Of course. How has your day been, sir?"

I stared at him for a moment too long; fuck, he was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes, perfect skin, perfect teeth, perfect figure…I hadn't realised that I was attracted to men before I started visiting this book shop and met him. He was infinitely hotter than any girl I'd met before…not that girls ever had an interest in me. "Alright…. Yours?" I wanted him to keep talking; his English accent was out of place, but cute.

His smile knocked the breath out of me. "Kinda busy…but that's okay." Squeezing past me and into the closest isle, he started comparing seemingly random titles to books I'd previously brought from this store.

I wasn't really listening to anything he said, more just the sound of his voice. His obvious excitement about all of this had me smiling; it was like watching a kid in a candy store. "…What about something different…do you have a favourite book?" I asked carefully. I couldn't help myself; it seemed to make him so happy, and I needed to see him with the one he loved most.

His face lit up immediately, but his smile was kind of shy. Without thinking, he grabbed my hand, quickly pulling me around the corner and over to another shelf. He found it immediately, standing on his toes and reaching to get it down.

God lord he was perfect. I found myself mentally tracing the slither of skin exposed against his back when he leant over like that, wishing I could run my thumb over it. His smile had me sold on the book immediately, but I didn't say anything, just let him tell me about the author, where the book was written, the concept behind it, all of it genuine enthusiasm about a few hundred pages.

I held out my hand and his fingers brushed against mine as he passed it to me. I almost laughed at his expression when I agreed on this one, despite not hearing a single thing he said about it. He was quiet as he led me back to the counter.

I struggled for something to say as I watched him scan it through the till. "What are your plans for the weekend? I suppose you're going out and watching the game tonight like everyone else?" Everyone except me, that was. Baseball didn't interest me in the slightest. Neither did sitting alone in a bar all night.

He laughed quietly. "Sports isn't really my thing."

His laugh made me smile, and I watched him a little closer, still unsure what about him exactly drew me in. "Not a fan, huh?" I teased lightly, suddenly a little more confident. I was listening properly now; I wanted to know everything about this boy.

He shook his head, sliding the book I'd brought into a paper bag. "Not so much."

"Your friends must hate that," I chuckled. "I know my brother does. He goes off at me every time I miss a game, but it doesn't really interest me much either."

The pretty boy looked away, tracing the countertop with his finger. "I don't really know many people here…that's not really an issue."

"You're new, then?"

He handed me the bag, his smile a little nervous now. "I moved here a few months ago…I used to live in London…I guess I'm a little shy…"

"Do you like it here, then?" I leant forward against the wood, wanting to be closer to him...I bet his skin was as soft as it looked...

"It's okay," he shrugged.

"Just okay?" I wanted to keep him talking all day – especially if it gave me an excuse to be close to him.

"I mean…I like it, but I get a little homesick sometimes." He smiled suddenly. "Especially when you all start going mad over baseball."

"You'll learn to love it," I teased, secretly hoping he wouldn't just so that we would have something in common.

He rolled his eyes at me. "We'll see."

Without anything else to say and my confidence quickly dissolving, I thanked him and headed back to work, inwardly sulking.


	2. Chapter 2

It was my habit of sulking that led me to be standing outside of the bookshop at ten in the morning, trying to appear casual as I brought the daily paper – merely an excuse to talk to the gorgeous boy who sold it to me. Thanks to the line I was stuck in, I got the opportunity to watch him for a while, almost mesmerised by his smile. I was eternally grateful that he was too busy to look at me for any length of time – not that anyone like him would ever want someone like me. Fuck, there was no way that boy didn't have a girlfriend.

"You're out early today," he commented brightly as I handed the paper to him. I was sure it must have been unhealthy to be this bubbly before lunch time, but it suited him.

"I-I wanted the paper to read with my lunch," I stammered lamely, feeling my face flush. As I spoke my eyes landed on the name tag pinned to his shirt. "Thanks, Carlisle…" His name caught on my tongue and I was sure that I was redder than before. Too nervous to stay, I quickly paid for it and hurried toward the door, desperate to be away from him before I said something else stupid; apparently, my brain turned to mush the minute I saw him.

I dumped the damn thing on the table once I got home, not giving it another thought. Instead, I set about preparing dinner; my brother and his wife were supposed to come over for tea tonight, and I didn't want to make an ass of myself in front of them _and_ the boy on the same day.

By the time my doorbell rang I was sick and shaky and in no mood to be eating. I folded my arms self-consciously as I let Eleazar and Carmen in, slightly envious of how their fingers naturally intertwined. All too suddenly I noticed how my jeans were tighter than they used to be, and I was sure this shirt used to sit nicer. I didn't have time to cry over insecurities now, though - especially seeming as it was the thought of holding Carlisle's hand that way that had set them off…

"The food is great, Garrett," Eleazar commented after a few mouthfuls. When I glanced up at him, he was frowning at me.

 _Because food was all I was good at._ "Your face says otherwise," I mumbled, chasing my meal around my plate with my fork as an excuse not to put it in my mouth.

"You'd believe me if you actually tried it," he shot back. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I snapped at him, fighting to keep my face from flushing. There was no way in hell I wanted to discuss my weight with my brother. Not now, and not ever. Something told me he knew, though. I couldn't hide much from my him.

"Aright, alright." He forced a smile at me. "I do suggest you actually eat your dinner though. It really is good."

Just to please him, I shoved a mouthful between my lips, sighing heavily. I _was_ hungry, but eating in front of others made me so nervous my stomach hurt, and I wanted them to go just so I could finish my meal in peace. Focusing on the table top and one mouthful at a time helped a little, but it still didn't feel good.

"Are you sure you're okay, Garrett?" Carmen asked softly when her husband excused himself to go to the bathroom. "You're not quite yourself tonight."

I glanced up at her, partially giving in and telling her half the truth. "…I feel a little sick…I'm just not really hungry."

"Okay, love. We'll go when your brother gets back, and you go and get some rest." She smiled sympathetically and reached over to pat my hand.

I relaxed a little, forcing a smile and repressing a relieved sigh. "How's Kate? She starts school soon, right?"

She chuckled to herself at the mention of her daughter's name. "Yes, that's all she can talk about. Eleazar and I have decided to throw her a birthday party this year, seeming as she turning five and all. Hopefully we can get a few of her preschool friends around."

"Jesus, five already," I groaned, rubbing my hand across my face. My niece seemed to gain at least a year every time I saw her, despite that being at least once a week normally.

"Tell me about it," she grumbled. "It won't be long until she's bringing boys home-"

"Excuse me, but it'll be a bloody long time before any boy gets through my front door," Eleazar interrupted as he came back into the kitchen.

I roll my eyes at him, unable to resist a laugh at his expression. "Don't worry, I'm sure your little princess will stay little for a while yet," I teased him.

"Come on, Eleazar, finish your food. Your brother wants to go to bed," Carmen told him, patting his seat.

His eyes locked on mine, and I quickly glanced down at the table. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Eleazar…just tired…"

It seemed to take forever to get them out of my house. As much as I loved having them, it was great to be alone again. I finished my dinner sitting on the couch, flicking through the channels for something to watch. There was absolutely nothing on, and I ended up watching the News and hearing the same stories from the paper I'd brought from Carlisle this morning.

As soon as I thought about him, my eyes landed on the book on my bench. I hadn't given it another thought after buying it, putting it there once I'd come home and forgetting about it. I quickly shoved my plate off my lap, getting up to grab it and running my fingers over the cover.

It was smoother than I remembered, and I traced the title engraved in the spine with my thumb. Everything about it was nice; it was even a good weight, almost comforting to hold. Curious, I sat at the table with it, slowly sifting through the pages. I couldn't resist a chuckle, grinning at the walls; that boy had sold me a book full of fairy tales. Granted, after skim reading a few, they were definitely too dark for children, but they were fairy tales none the less. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting, but this certainly wasn't it. Still, it suited him perfectly, and I loved him for it.

I took it to bed with me, fighting to keep my thoughts about the boy in the bookshop G-rated. It was beyond me why talking to a stranger could make me so damn happy. When reading didn't help, I set it on my beside table, allowing myself the privilege of daydreaming about Carlisle.

It was all just kisses and cuddles, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I wrapped my arms around a pillow. Sadly, it didn't even begin to mimic anything remotely close to what I imagined holding him like that would feel like.

I roughly reached up to bat the light switch, plunging me into darkness. Yanking the blankets over my head, I groaned; I was a moron, Carlisle would never want me as badly as I wanted him. I was just another customer.


	3. Chapter 3

Showering was the worst. Especially since I was faced with an obnoxious full length mirror every morning. The lighting didn't help to disguise any of the extra weight I'd managed to acquire over the last few weeks, either. _Fuck._

Nothing was going right. I looked disgusting, my hair was a mess, I didn't have time for breakfast or a coffee, and I was already late. It didn't get any better when I left the house either; my car wouldn't fucking start because I'd forgotten to get gas the night before because I was a fucking idiot. I stormed my way to my office, glaring at my boss when he made his way over to me. I didn't want any of his shit today.

Once he was done belittling me, I just sat with my head in my hands, loathing everything. It hit lunch time and I bolted back out of the building. I didn't know where I was going to go – lord knows I didn't need anything to eat – so I just wandered down the street, trying to pass the time. Eventually I ended up standing outside of the bookshop.

There was no one around when I stepped in, and Carlisle immediately smiled at me. "Someone looks a little down today?" he asked as I closed the door behind me.

I smiled back nervously, my stomach twisting. "Um…kinda…" I crept over to the papers and carefully put one on the counter. Folding my arms helped to fight off the vulnerable feeling of being the centre of his attention. I didn't even want to know what he saw, because whatever it was, it can't have been good.

He glanced down at it briefly, and I imagined brushing his hair off his face as he looked up at me again. "I'm not sure that reading about all the shit that's going in the world is going to help you much," he teased, his fingers brushing lightly against mine as he handed my change back. It can't have been intentional, but it left my skin tingling.

I didn't know what to say, swallowing thickly and refusing eye contact. I knew that I was supposed to take the bag and leave now, but I didn't want to. I wanted to talk to him some more.

Thankfully, he took the hint. "You read a lot, don't you?" He didn't wait for me to answer before jumping out from behind the counter, already knowing from how much time I spent in this shop, no doubt.

I followed him a little numbly through the shop as he pointed out a few titles on the shelves, comparing them to the books I'd already brought or spent a while looking at – turns out this boy paid a whole lot more attention to me than I thought. I just liked being around him, really; seeing a friendly face after this morning was a relief. As we reached the end of the shelves, I realised I was going to have to go back to office. "…I need to go, Carlisle…" I told him quietly.

He just nodded, seeming a little disappointed. "Okay, but…since you know my name, do I get to know yours?"

"I'm Garrett…" I really, _really_ didn't want to leave as I headed toward the front door, my heart sinking a little.

"Have a good day, Garrett," he called after me, jumping up to sit on the edge of the counter.

My face flushed as he said my name; I was totally screwed – I officially head over heels for a stranger.

The next few days passed in a blur, and every morning I found myself standing in front of the boy I wanted, buying a paper I _didn't_ want. A few days a week, he didn't work. Which was logical, because who the fuck worked seven days a week in a damn bookstore. But that didn't calm me down any, and I hated those days. The other guy that served me was nowhere near as friendly, or as cute. I immediately didn't like him.

Needless to say, when Carlisle was back, I was over the moon.

"You know, maybe you should explain to me whatever is in that paper you find so interesting, because every time I buy one it's boring as shit," Carlisle told me as I put today's paper on the counter in front of him. He failed at hiding a smile, obviously teasing.

"...The beginning is always my favourite…" Not the story, as I hoped he would assume. Oh no; I just bought the damn thing every single fucking day so I could see him. Was this this flirting? I didn't know.

He looked down at the front page. "Women rolls car and hits school bus?" he asked, hiding a smirk.

My face flushed and I quickly looked away. "…Guess today wasn't so good."

"It's nice seeing you in the morning, anyway." He slid it into a bag, pushing it across the counter to me. He kept his eyes on the desk, but was smiling a little. His hair had fallen over his face and I longed to push it back.

I didn't know what to say, though. I opened and closed my mouth several times as I tried to conjure up a reply, but no words formed. "…Thanks for this…" I mumbled instead, gesturing to the bag as I took it from him, slowly backing toward the front door.

He jumped up to sit on the edge of the counter. "You look cute today, by the way. I like that shirt on you."

While I stood there open-mouthed and bright red, he continued on like it wasn't anything, wishing me well for the day as I stumbled out the door. I'd never been called 'cute' by anyone other than my mother, or my brother when he was teasing me, and this shirt was definitely not right.

So what the fuck was he taking?

His words had sent a wave of pleasure through my body though, and I was smiling at the pavement as I walked back to work. Nothing anyone said to me for the rest of the day seemed as bad, not when Carlisle thought _I_ was 'cute'. Why a few words could make me so happy, I had no idea.

I'd spent a little too long trying to look mildly presentable this morning, hoping that _maybe_ those words might come out of his mouth again; my quest to get him to find me mildly attractive me was quickly going to become unhealthy. Not that anything helped me much; I still looked like a fucking mess. It crumpled what little confidence I had even further when I approached the counter. I'd wanted to run, but in all likelihood Carlisle had already seen me come in and would be fully aware if I bolted. I didn't want to look like a fucking asshole.

"Hi, Garrett." He smiled shyly when I glanced up – adorable and perfect as usual – and I momentarily forgot that I was supposed to be buying something from him.

"H-hey…"

He paused for a moment, watching me, before laughing quietly and reaching for my hand. "Am I allowed to scan that paper, or not?" he teased.

Shit. I gave it to him, trying to pretend I wasn't entirely flustered. "Sorry…"

"How's work?"

"It's…work, I guess." I awkwardly scratched the back of my neck, shrugging. Bitching about your boss to someone you didn't know was exactly acceptable, but by god did I want to.

"You don't like your job?" He smiled sympathetically, handing me my receipt.

"I sit behind a desk all on the phone, it's not my favourite thing," I told him, sighing.

"It's so bad it drives you in here every day?" Teasing again, he gestured to the front page of the paper in my hand. "So bad that you have to come and get some light reading?"

I glanced down, and sure enough, the headline was just as morbid as it always was: _Home invasion leaves two dead._ "It's just nice to be out of the office, to be honest…It's not really about the paper." Not about the paper at all.

He leant across the counter, suddenly very, very close to me, and reached to grab something off the shelf beside me. "We give out free sweets to our customers, you know. You don't have to buy our papers." Unscrewing the top off it, he held the jar out to me. The brightly coloured wrappers glinted menacingly, and my throat tightened.

My nerves pricked and I stiffly reached out to take one, obliged. The candy burned in my palm, and I shoved it into my pocket just to get it out of my hand; I couldn't eat it. I'd have to throw it away later, but I thought it rude to refuse it. I slowly backed toward the door, trying to smile. "Thanks, Carlisle…"

"See you tomorrow?" It was half a question and half a statement.

I nodded.


	4. Chapter 4

"You good for nothing fat fuck, just do your job!" Phil, my boss, bellowed in my face. "Maybe if you spent less time eating, you'd be better at it!" It can't have been legal to yell at your staff like that, but there wasn't much I could do about it at that point in time.

I was fighting tears; he'd just rejected the report I'd written him, and had been hounding me for over an hour about finishing another. His latest slew of insults happened to hit a little too close to home, and my childish response to it was wanting to cry.

"You disgust me," he spat. "Get out of my sight, you filthy creature. I don't want to see your face for the rest of the day."

Too hurt to argue anymore, I shoved my stuff back into my bag and made for the door, forcing myself to walk instead of run out of the godforsaken building.

"That's right, just waddle away from your responsibilities," he mocked, calling after me.

I broke down in the elevator, trying to keep from losing it completely as I grabbed at my phone. It rang only a few times before he picked up. "I hate him- I-I hate him, Eleazar!" I whined as he said hello.

He groaned, frustrated. It wasn't exactly an unusual occurrence for him to have to listen to me bitch about my boss. "What happened now? Are you alright?"

"D-do you…can we have dinner together t-tonight?" I pleaded, fighting back another wave of tears. As much as I hated it, it was usually easy to convince my brother to go out with me if food was involved, so I had to make do.

"I'm out of town for the week, Garrett," he sighed, blowing out a breath. "Sorry…"

"T-that's okay…" I sniffed, lying as I tried to wipe my face dry with my sleeve. I vaguely remembered him telling me that.

"If you're really desperate for company, Carmen's sister is baby-sitting our house and I'm sure she'd grab something to eat with you," he offered sympathetically. I winced a little, sorry for putting him in that position.

"N-no…I'm sure I'll live…"

"I have to go now, but I love you, Garrett. You call me if you need to talk, okay?"

"Thanks, Eleazar…I love you too…" Swallowing the lump in my throat, I hung up and shoved my phone into my pocket. Stepping out of the elevator, I contemplated what I would do now; I wasn't in the mood for lunch anyway, but a coffee sounded good.

I was right; the bitter liquid did help me to feel a little better and helped to ease the tension in my shoulders. It wasn't that big of a deal; Phil insulted everyone all the time. He picked everyone's flaws. Sure, I'd fucked up and he'd picked on me today, but maybe he wouldn't tomorrow. Besides, I could just go home and sleep now, anyway.

But of course it had to start pouring with fucking rain. Great. Just great. So much for the hot drink; I was freezing within seconds. Instantly I was just as upset about Phil as I was before; the weather was just as much as a jerk as he was. Perfect.

In my pissed off and already uncoordinated state, I tripped over the edge of the pavement, leaning hard on my hands and knees. My eyes burnt with tears but I forced them back. I wasn't about to cry over nothing for the second time that day. It didn't make me want to get up anymore, though.

"Garrett! Are you okay?"

I recognised the voice but couldn't place it. It wasn't like I had anyone other my brother that would be too concerned about me sitting on the path anyway. I prayed it wasn't someone who I worked with – they'd already know about the drama with my boss.

It was worse than that, though. Of course it was the boy I'd convinced myself I was in love with. It was just my luck I'd managed to slip outside of the bookshop. "Hey, are you alright?" Carlisle crouched in front of me suddenly, his hand on my back.

"…yeah…" I mumbled, gingerly sitting up. My hands were bleeding, but there was no major damage. "I'm okay…"

He laughed quietly, helping me up. "They need to fix their path then." For once I didn't mind a little gentle teasing.

"…Or maybe I should just be less clumsy…"

He rolled his eyes at me. "Will you let me fix your hands?" He was holding my wrists, running his thumb over the back of my hand.

I nodded dumbly, not about to pass up an opportunity to be around him, even in my sorry state.

He led me back indoors and into one of the back rooms, turning on the heater in the process. "Come here." With a bowl of warm water, he carefully washed away the blood and washed out the scratches, wrapping a thin bandage from the shop's first aid kit around them immediately afterwards.

While we both dried out, I sat at the counter against the heater with him, watching him as he served the few customers that came in. The rest of the time we just talked. And I found myself liking him more and more with each second that passed.

Eventually he tired of standing, jumping up to sit on the edge of the desk, meaning he was facing me. "You okay? You seem a little…off."

I almost lied about it, but the genuine concern reflected in his expression steered me toward the truth. "I just…I had a bit of a rough day," I admitted quietly. At his prompt to explain, I hesitantly gave in. "…My boss is a dickhead…it's not like he's mean to me especially though, he yells at everyone…I guess I just took it a little more personally than usual….Usually I go crying to my brother, but he's out of town…" I forced a smile, trying to make a joke out of it.

"You have a brother?" He seemed honestly interested, so I let him have the tiny insight into my life, secretly hoping he might do that same for me.

"Yeah; Eleazar…We normally have dinner together when I turn into a whiney little brat."

He laughed quietly, but his smile faded a little. "I could…you could have dinner with me…if you wanted?"

I agreed embarrassingly quickly, despite the knot of anxiety that bunched in my stomach. "As long as I'm not, um, going to…I don't want to upset anything you had planned…" There was no way in hell this boy was single; I wasn't sure what I was getting myself all flustered for.

"The worst you're going to get is my flatmate."

'Flatmate'. Yeah right. "O-okay…"

And that was how I ended up standing next to Carlisle as he dug his key out of his pocket. We'd just had pizza in the bookshop staffroom, and somehow I'd managed actually get something down my throat without it hurting too much. I was fully convinced that this boy was the cutest person I'd ever met; he was somehow adorably shy despite being seemingly confident when he talked to me. He put me at ease, and despite him being practically a stranger, I trusted him.

In reality, it was rather stupid for both us to agree to me going back with him; I could have a gun under my coat for all he knew, and he could have a torture chamber in his basement…not that I could picture for a second Carlisle ever doing anything bad to anyone.

The other guy didn't even look up as we came in, although I was sure he could hear my heart pummelling away in my chest. I felt like I was going to vomit.

Still, the flat was cute. Warm and tidy and far more 'homely' than mine own was. My apartment looked more like an industrial box than a house compared to this.

Carlisle didn't seem to think twice about my being here. "Hey, Alistair."

"You're late," he accused, almost parental. _Boyfriend? Shit._

"I guess? Have you eaten?"

"Um, yes." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm not waiting for some kid that insists on coming home two hours later that he was expected."

He just laughed at his comment. "This is Garrett, by the way."

Alistair glanced back at me, definitely unimpressed about my presence. "Great."

"He's always like this," he told me, rolling his eyes. "Just ignore him."

I gave him a nervous smile and a few awkward seconds passed, but soon I found myself sitting across from Carlisle at their kitchen table, a mug full of hot chocolate in my hands. Alistair – who I now convinced he was dating – hadn't spoken to me again, and I kind of preferred it that way.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asked after a while.

I nodded slowly, completely dreading it. I watched him as he traced the grain of the wood on the table with his finger, keeping his head down. His hair had fallen across his face, partly hiding his expression from me, and it gave me the perfect excuse to stare at him. "Yeah…"

He cautiously reached across the table to touch my hand. "Surely your boss can't treat you like that…"

"It doesn't matter, Carlisle," I sighed. "Yeah, I mean, he's an asshole, but it's still a job. It's not always that bad."

"Come see me again if you have another shitty day?" he asked quietly, squeezing my fingers gently before drawing his hand back.

I couldn't resist a smile. "Okay."


	5. Chapter 5

Weeks came and went, and I found myself making more and more excuses to spend as much time as possible loitering by the counter in the bookshop. I wanted to spend every waking moment with Carlisle, but I never had him alone. And it was _killing_ me.

"What are you doing tonight?" The question was innocent enough, but my face quickly reddened; locking myself in my apartment with my hand down my pants, thinking about the boy in front of me, wasn't much of an answer.

"Nothing," I told him instead, trying to keep my voice steady.

He either didn't notice or was polite enough not to say anything when it broke. "Do you maybe want to come see a movie with me and Alistair in town then?" He smiled when our eyes met, but my insides liquefied.

I nodded shyly, unable to resist a smile. After agreeing on a time and exchanging phone numbers, I spent the rest of the afternoon giddy with excitement and nerves.

Hours seemed to drag on and on as I waited for the end of the day. I fidgeted at every traffic light as I waited for them to turn green, mentally trying to plan an outfit that would be half decent. All too soon I was standing in front of my closet, begrudgingly navigating the different fabrics. Eventually I tired of it, avoiding looking in a mirror for longer than I took to brush my teeth and check that I wasn't a complete mess, and jumped back into the car.

Just as I had feared, he was too gorgeous for words; tight jeans and plain shirt suddenly had me melted and I felt a little dizzy. The stupid thing was that he was dressed the same as literally every other guy around us – me included – but was a hundred times more adorable. I was a fucking idiot.

He didn't hesitate in greeting me as I cautiously came over to them, and Alistair managed a half-sarcastic smirk, whispering something to Carlisle which earned him a glare and a jab in the ribs. His flatmate's comment had obviously thrown him a little and his face flushed my new favourite shade of pink.

My hopes that I would be able to spend two hours sitting next to the boy of my dreams were quickly shattered as Alistair strategically placed himself in between me and Carlisle, shooting me a grin and ignoring his boyfriend's complaint.

Halfway through, however, Alistair got up to go to the bathroom. And as soon as he had vacated his seat, Carlisle slid into it, next to me again. "He's a fucking asshole sometimes," he whispered to me, leaning over to speak to me to avoid being shushed by the lady in front of us.

"…I think he's just protective over you," I whispered back, trying to smooth any hard feelings between them.

Carlisle laughed though. "Please, he's trying to wind me up."

I wasn't watching the movie anymore, too intensely focused on how close he was to me. If I moved my hand a few inches it would be touching his, and he was definitely close enough for a kiss. To my horror, as soon as Alistair came back, he called me out on it.

"Are you watching the film or my boy, Garrett?" he asked – too loudly for a quiet theatre. Everyone turned to look at me. "It's impolite to stare."

Carlisle's expression mirrored mine as I felt my cheeks heat up. He shook his head at him but said nothing.

I quickly looked back at the screen, mortified, and kept my eyes there for the next hour.

As we headed outside, I excused myself on the basis of needing to go to the bathroom, mostly just wanting to get away from them. I cringed a little when the door reopened immediately behind me, but my heart stopped when I glanced over my shoulder – expecting to see a stranger – and came face to face with Carlisle.

"…Hey, Garrett…I'm really sorry about tonight…" he started slowly, leaning against the door. "Are you okay?"

I swallowed thickly, nodding slowly. "I'm fine," I mumbled, unable to look at him.

"He can be…abrasive…at the best of times. It's not anything personal…"

"It's alright, Carlisle…" I wasn't sure why he was feeling so guilty; nothing that happened had been _that_ bad.

"Can I…Do you want to get coffee sometime? Without Alistair?"

"I'd really like that," I admitted, smiling shyly.

He was quiet for a moment, a little lost almost. "Um…I really am sorry he was so rude to you. He was way out of line and that wasn't fair."

"It's fine. I mean, I would be a little upset if someone was to, ah, act that way around my partner…" I ducked my head, refusing eye contact with him as heat rushed into my face.

"...Me and Alistair aren't together, Garrett…He's just my flatmate." He sighed nervously, folding his arms and not looking at me either. "He's a wind-up merchant. It's what we do to each other, normally…he's only acting like such an asshole to you because he knows how much I like you, and that it winds me up if he's acting like a jerk…"

My mind was reeling and the room warped a little. _Carlisle liked me back?_ I was hyperventilating, but Carlisle was holding his breath. "Carlisle…" No more words wanted to come out, and I didn't know what to say. "…I really like you too…" it was lame and little more than a whisper, but it was all I could offer with my head spinning the way it was.

He smiled nervously, glancing up at me. "…Could coffee be a date, then?" The question was hesitant and quiet, and he was picking at his clothing as he waited for my response.

"…yeah…" I nodded, unable to resist grinning back.

I'd gone to the café early with the hope of being able to scope the place out before Carlisle it got here. It meant I got to choose our table and study the menu for what I was ordering. If someone was going to overcomplicate a coffee date, it was going to be me. I'd been texting Carlisle intermittently since we had seen each other last, and continued that now as I waited for him to arrive. My stomach was tight with nerves; it had taken us a while to actually organise the date – it had been a few weeks since the movie – and I was starting to wonder if Carlisle's was getting cold feet.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. We were super busy," he sighed, sliding into the seat in front of me. "How was your day?"

I refrained from telling him that I had today off, and hadn't gotten out of bed until about an hour ago. "It's been okay. Better now that I can see you." I forced a smile, trying to relax a little. Leaning back in my chair, I took a deep breath, steadying myself.

"Mine too…I mean, with you, not me…" He smiled shyly, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.

The waitress came around then, taking our orders, and we kept up the conversation until our orders came.

"Did you want something to eat…? I can buy you lunch if want?" he asked carefully, wrapping his fingers around his cup as the girl handed it to him. While he thanked her, I was in a blind panic.

I felt the colour drain from my face and suddenly felt nauseous.

His smile faded too, suddenly flooded with confusion over my reaction; to his credit. "Garrett, I'm not going to force you into anything. It's okay," he told me softly, reaching over to lightly touch my hand. "I didn't mean to freak you out; if anything makes you uncomfortable, just say stop, okay?" He suddenly drew his hand back, trying to make me more comfortable, I was sure, but I didn't want him to stop it. "…what's wrong…?"

I groaned and buried my face in my hands. "It's not you, Carlisle…" Something in me surrendered, and I decided I may as well come clean early on in the relationship, if that was where we were headed. "…I don't like eating in front of people…it's stupid, I know…but it makes my stomach hurt…" I kept my eyes on the table top as I spoke, feeling ridiculous; it wasn't a big deal, but I felt like I was turning it into one.

"Don't worry about it, then. No dinner dates. Is drinking okay though? You feel okay about this?" he asked gently.

I nodded. "This is fine." This was perfect, actually.

Walking back toward his work, I froze as I felt his fingers close around mine. He squeezed my hand tightly, glancing up to meet my eyes. "Is this okay?" he asked quietly, smiling when I nodded shyly.

I stepped closer to him so that our arms brushed as we walked, holding my breath and waiting for rejection. "Your hands are warm," I manage to whisper after a while, my face hot the second after it came out and I realised how stupid I sounded.

"So are yours," he whispered back, laughing a little as we came to a stop outside of the bookshop.

Giddy, I tried to keep myself contained. "…I think I like getting coffee with you…" I admitted.

"Tomorrow, then?" he asked hopefully. "If our lunch breaks overlap?"

I nodded, somehow gathering enough courage to hug him goodbye. "What if…did you want to come over instead? It'll be Friday night and everything and I can cook okay…I could make us dinner?" I prayed I wasn't pushing too quickly – mind you, I had been to his flat before and met his flatmate several times…and I wanted to prove I wasn't completely pathetic and that dinner dates were, in fact, on the table.

He quickly agreed to that, and I texted him my address before stepping inside of my office building, feeling a mixture of excited and nervous.


	6. Chapter 6

I was definitely more nervous than excited by the time Friday night came, though. My chest was tight and I felt sick and a little dizzy. Why the fuck had I decided this was a good idea? This would definitely end everything; it was too dark in here, and too messy and the food was burning and I didn't know what I was supposed to give him to drink when he got here.

All too soon there was a knock on the door, and I just about shit myself. My hands shook violently as I unlocked it, and I stopped breathing upon coming face to face with him.

"You can laugh if you want, but it always seems to happen in sappy movies, so…" With a shy smile, he handed me a bunch of very prettily packaged flowers.

I did laugh, but it was brought on by nerves. "Unnecessary, but cute," I told him, taking them from him and squeezing his hand. "I feel bad now; I don't even know what to offer you to drink," I admitted guiltily, my face flushing.

"To be fair, you are cooking me dinner," he teased. There was a pause, and he was suddenly very quiet. "I didn't come here for anything but you, Garrett. Don't worry about it."

I could have kissed him, but instead I just smiled, not sure how to take his statement. There was an awkward pause where neither of us said anything, and then he offered to help me finish cooking. "It's done already…I wanted it finished by the time you got here…" Not sure what else to do, I dished up our food, setting it on the table.

Sitting in front of me, he was apparently unfazed. "You're a really good cook," he told me after a few minutes, briefly glancing up to look at me.

"Thanks." For once the compliment pleased me, but I was still hyper aware of how much I was eating; despite feeling sick, I'd still managed to get through more on my plate than Carlisle had. I watched him as subtly as I could, and he never once swallowed more than the tiniest bit he could…was he nervous about this too?

He fidgeted just as much as I did and sat with remarkably good posture, keeping his eyes on the table and only risking a few glances up at me. _Carlisle was nervous too._ The thought put me at ease a little, and I scolded myself for it.

We ate the rest of our food in nervous silence, but it only took a bottle of beer each before the tension dispersed and we were talking again. My heart was racing as we sat on the couch together, absentmindedly watching a movie, while I tried to figure out how I might shuffle a little closer so I could hug him. I didn't normally consider myself a cuddly person, but my god did I want to cuddle that boy. Alcohol wasn't making it any easier.

Carlisle reached over to take my hand, and while it wasn't quite the amount of contact I would've liked, it was still wonderful all the same. I slid along the couch a little more, wanting to at least get closer to him. Taking my hint, he put his free hand on my knee, lightly tracing the seam of my jeans with his finger.

Testing my limits, I cautiously slid my arms around his waist, pulling him a little closer. He leant his head against my shoulder, seemingly as comfortable as I was being this close to me.

"You said you have a brother, right?" he asked quietly. "Tell me about your family?"

I nodded, squeezing him gently. "Yeah, Eleazar. His wife's name is Carmen, and they have a daughter, Kate. She's turning five in a few months." I paused, wondering how much he actually wanted to know, but he gave me no indication, so I continued. "My parents live just out of town, so I get to see them a fair amount, which is nice. That's pretty much it, really, we're only a little family."

"Little is nice," he murmured, sounding sleepy.

"What about yours?"

He shook his head, tensing a little bit. "…not tonight…" he mumbled. There was a long pause before he spoke again, and I frowned but left it alone. "Do you see your brother's family often?"

"Usually at least once every week. We're only a year apart in age, so we've gotten quite close a we've grown up. He's coming for lunch tomorrow afternoon, actually." With a repressed sigh, I realised I'd much rather be spending that time with Carlisle, but it was far too late to change my mind now.

"Where'd you get the flowers from?" Eleazar asked through a mouthful of pasta.

I ducked my head, quickly focusing my attention on my plate. "Ah…just someone I had over…"

He looked me up and down, grinning. "Like a romantic someone?"

Not saying anything, I just shook my head.

"Out with it, Garrett."

"Fuck off, Eleazar. Shut up and drink your tea," I grumbled at him, fighting to keep my face from flushing.

"Whatever you say, little brother," he teased. "Whoever they are, they have nice taste in floristry."

Well, he wasn't wrong. I ignored the comment anyway, knowing he was baiting me into telling him. "Have you had a busy week?"

"Just the usual. No one brought me flowers though, so I'll have to bear that hardship."

"Shut up, you asshole."

"is this worth mentioning to mum?"

"Most definitely not." _Yet._

Thankfully, he shut up and finished his food, as did I. "We're trying to plan a birthday party for Kate. It's damn near torture, I swear."

"Is she excited to start school?" I asked, glad we were off the topic of my guest.

"Hell yeah. Her and Carmen have had a bloody field day shopping for stationary and school bags and the rest of it."

"It's better than being nervous," I reminded him.

"It certainly is," he agreed.

After he'd gone home, I spent the rest of the evening trying to figure out how to see Carlisle next. I was hitting a wall though; our timetables clashed for the next few weeks, not even leaving us weekends seeming as he worked retail and covered those shifts sometimes. The next Friday he had off was three weeks away, and I knew there was no way in hell I was patient enough to wait that long to see him.

Sitting at my desk at work, I was quickly resorting back to buying papers from the boy in the bookshop every day, just as an excuse to talk to him. I'd learned what days he had off, and I never went when I knew it would only be his co-workers; they were nice and all, but they weren't Carlisle. The mean comments from my boss just seemed to slide off me; they didn't matter so much when the boy I wanted liked me back.

The next absolutely freeing morning provided me with the perfect opportunity to do something that _I hoped to god_ was cute, and not entirely weird. The air sucked the heat out of any exposed skin as I stepped out into the snow, and I was glad for my thick jacket. On my way to get my daily paper, I stopped and picked up two coffees; I knew for a fact that the bookshop didn't have heating, and I was sure that providing Carlisle with a little bit of heat was going to go down well.

There wasn't anyone in the shop when I opened the door, so I didn't bother with the paper at all, figuring I could pick one up if anyone came in. I set his cup on the counter, sliding it towards him.

After a moment of confusion, he picked up, thanking me with a smile.

"Where's your boss?" I asked, realising that the rest of the store was entirely quiet.

"He's gone home; it's too cold for him here," he mumbled, holding the mug with both hands to try and stop them shaking so much. He was shivering quite a bit, despite his jacket, and I badly wished I could hug him to warm him up.

"Do they not have any heating at all?" I frowned.

"They're installing it next week. I hope."

"You're still okay to come over then?"

"Yeah, of course," he smiled, glancing up at me. "As long as you'll have me, that is."

I just nodded, barely resisting leaning over the counter to kiss him.


	7. Chapter 7

The next week passed agonisingly slow, and I thought Friday would never come. It was absolutely pouring with rain, and I'd decided to order us takeaways rather than going to the supermarket to get real ingredients. Carlisle was a little late, and it had me worried that he wouldn't come.

I was practically pacing the apartment by the time he did arrive, and I pounced on him the minute he touched the door.

"Sorry I'm late…I got held up at work…" he mumbled, watching the ground and not looking up at me. He was paler than usual, and obviously wasn't happy.

"Don't worry about it." I hugged him without thinking about it, smiling as I felt him wrap his arms around my waist. His clothing was kind of damp, and I knew he was cold. "You've had a rough day, huh?"

"Sort of, I guess…I don't know…" Running his fingers through his hair to get it off his face, he was still hesitant.

I pulled him in the door, holding his hand. "I thought we could have takeaways for dinner, seeming as the weather is so shitty?"

Nodding, he stepped forward to hug me again, resting his head against my shoulder. I ran my hand down his back, leaning my cheek on the top his head. What little heat was left in his body was seeping into my clothing, and it was nice having him this close to me.

His silence over dinner had me worried, and even after we had been sitting next to each other on the couch for a while, he still wasn't talking.

I shifted closer to him, pulling him into me and sliding my arm around his waist. "You okay? You're awfully quiet."

He turned to face me, wrapping his arms around me and cuddling into my side. "I really like you, Garrett…"

I froze as I felt his lips against my neck, tangling my fingers in his clothing and repressing a moan. "I really like you too…" I forced out between my teeth. I shifted under him, wanting him closer.

Thankfully, he took pity on me, gently pushing me back against the couch and kissing his way up my jaw until our lips met.

My head was spinning with my first kiss, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around him, wanting more. I just wasn't sure how to fucking get it; I didn't want to do anything which would fuck this up.

He seemed to get the cue, though, holding my face in his hands and kissing me again, and then a little more passionately once I started to respond.

It was wonderful, but I eventually lost my nerve, pulling away from him a little. Seeming to understand, he kissed my cheek once more and left it at that. I kept my arm around his waist so he was still lying against me, and he leant his head against my shoulder, absentmindedly fidgeting with the edge of my shirt. It had me a little nervous – there was no way he could pull it off me while we were like this, and I knew he wouldn't do it without checking it was okay, but I couldn't completely smother my anxiety around the thought of being any sort of undressed around anyone.

"Do you want a drink?" I asked after a while, wanting the alcohol in my system to dull my nerves.

Sitting up so I could stand, he nodded. "Yes, please."

A few shots later and a couple of bottles down, I was well on the way to a hangover the next morning. Liquid courage had given me enough confidence to touch Carlisle again, and I was stealing kisses at every opportunity. He was still being careful with me, trying not to freak me out, but I was having problems keeping my hands to myself.

As we lay together on the couch, I pulled Carlisle closer to me, smiling as I felt him mould his body to the shape of mine. The alcohol in my system was making me tired now, and cuddling like this was definitely appealing. "Do you miss London?" I glanced down at him, a little too tipsy to notice his expression become guarded.

"No." The answer was short and sharp, and he quickly looked away.

I frowned. "What about your family? It must have been hard moving over here alone?"

He didn't reply, silent and stiff in my arms.

"Do you have siblings?" My intoxicated brain didn't register that he wasn't happy, and that I should stop.

"Three." He pulled away, sitting up and turning away from me a little.

I wanted to keep him talking so that he would stay and lie down again. "What were they like? And your parents?"

It had the opposite effect to what I had wanted; he got up and moved to sit at the table. "I'm the youngest by seven years. My mother died giving birth to me and my brothers and father blame me for it."

That sobered me up pretty quickly, and I sat up as well. "What? Carlisle…"

"My family hates me, and I moved countries so they had to leave me alone." Studying the table top, he was biting his lip to fight the need to cry. The only sense I could make of the situation was that they'd had a fight just before he'd moved, and the distance had confused the issue a little.

"They can't hate you, Carlisle. You're family," I reminded him. "I'm sure if you flew back to visit them everything would be okay."

"…Sure they can, I'm not worth anything." I waited for him to add "not worth anything _to them_ ", but it never came. Blowing out a shaky breath, he ran his fingers through his hair.

I couldn't form words, unsure what he wanted me to say; my head was reeling.

"I'll go- I've fucked up enough today already, I don't need to make your night miserable as well." Standing up, he all but bolted for the door. Although he quickly turned away from me, it wasn't before I had time to see how upset he was.

"Carlisle! Wait, no, it's okay. Please stay," I pleaded, grabbing him and pulling him into a tight hug. He sighed quietly, resting his head against my shoulder, still hesitant. "Stay with me. I'm sorry for asking, I didn't mean to push you."

He just nodded, numb as I pulled him back inside. "…I thought that once I got far enough away from them, it wouldn't hurt anymore," he mumbled, his voice muffled by my clothing

I squeezed him tightly. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

"Y-yeah…" he answered uncertainly, risking a glance up at me, confused.

"I need to make sure you're okay," I clarified, forcing a smile and kissing his forehead.

He hugged me again, more forcefully than before, and I leant my chin against the top of his head. "…Okay…"

At bed time, I made sure to get changed privately – he didn't need to see how damn finicky I could get about clothing - and Carlisle seemed to respect that, even when intoxicated. He looked adorable in the change of clothes I'd leant him, though, and I couldn't resist pulling toward me as we lay together on the bed. He was still quiet and a little withdrawn, but I hoped a decent night's sleep and a cup of coffee in the morning might change that.

Under the blankets, I wasn't sure what to do; everything seemed far too intimate and I was floundering over where to put my hands. Although I'd been hugging him all night, my arm almost permanently around his waist, it seemed too much of an advancement now.

Carlisle seemed to notice this, shuffling closer to me and fitting comfortably against my side, his arms around my waist as he moulded his body to the shape of mine. It was exactly what I had wanted, and I couldn't resist a smile. "You're allowed to touch me, Garrett," he teased quietly, kissing my neck and hugging me a little tighter.

"…I've never had anyone stay over before…" I mumbled, awkward.

He smiled, resting his head against my shoulder. "I'm glad you let me, then."

"Me too," I admitted. "I never thought I would want this with anyone. Being this close, I mean. You're my first…" I trailed off, wondering if 'boyfriend' was too soon. Pushing my luck, I shifted a little, making it easier to be close to him and more comfortable for both us to lie together.

"Thanks for…this…" he mumbled, squeezing me to make a point.

"I was the reason you were upset in the first place," I reminded him, unsure why exactly I wanted him to remember such a thing. "I wasn't about to let you go after that."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Garrett. I just had a shitty day, and I guess it all mounts up…I fucked up today, I'm sorry."

"Carlisle, you didn't 'fuck up', you weren't happy; there's a difference," I reminded him. "I freaked out when you offered to buy me food, so what the hell are you apologising for?"

It worked; he laughed a little and finally started to relax properly. "Good night, Garrett." He leant up to kiss my cheek, before cuddling into me.

I smiled smugly. "Good night, Carlisle." _I think I love you._


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm not quite sure what was up with me this chapter; it seemed a little awkward to read through again, but I think I'm back on track for the next one. Thanks for your patience, and I apologise in advance for any errors – I did try and weed them out, but I know I'll have missed at least one, somewhere!**

It was far nicer than I wanted to admit to wake up with a boy in my arms. He was like having a personal hot-water-bottle. I wrapped my arms around him again, smiling when he kissed my neck. He was still half asleep but coherent enough to respond to me. Not wanting to move, I relaxed again, pleased when he did the same.

Apparently though, Carlisle was far more of a morning person than I anticipated; another fifteen minutes and he was restless and fidgety.

"What time is it?" I groaned, squinting into the light seeping through the curtains as he wriggled away to grab his phone.

"Eight thirty," he answered, sitting up now.

"Why are you awake, then?" I grumbled at him. "It's a Saturday."

"Saturdays are for getting things done, Garrett," he teased, leaning down to kiss me again. "But don't worry, I'm not going to force you out of bed."

"Good. The weekend if for sleeping in." I waited to see if he was going to come back to me, not done with cuddling him yet, but he wasn't paying attention. Partly against his will, I grabbed him again, pulling him into me.

Initially he laughed, but he melted into me a second later, seemingly happy to be there. "…I guess Saturday work can wait."

"What could you possibly have to do at this hour, hmm?" I kissed him, pleased with myself at having initiated it, and even more pleased with how he responded.

"Nothing that I can't do later," he reassured me. He seemed a lot happier than yesterday, and I smugly hoped that I had contributed to that. "But when you do eventually decide it's time to move, do you want to go and get coffee?"

"Sounds good," I mumbled into him, not planning on the being any time soon.

After another hour of me drifting in and out of sleep, keeping Carlisle locked against me while he scrolled through shit on his phone as means of amusement, I surrendered. It was almost eleven now, and I really couldn't warrant forcing him to stay here any longer.

I released him and sat up. "…coffee, right?"

"Yeah," he laughed. "Or not, if you don't want."

I shook my head. "I definitely want coffee."

"Good." He teasingly kissed my forehead, jumping up to get dressed again. He wasn't forward enough to do that in front of me, which I was a little disappointed about, but at the same time I wasn't exactly willing either, so I had nothing to bitch about.

Back in his own clothing, he wandered into the kitchen, leaving me to stew over dressing like I always did. I almost sighed in relief when he left the room without me having to ask him; I didn't want to have _that_ conversation just yet.

We ended up at a coffee shop down the road, and I was absolutely desperate for the caffeine. I ordered my drink, as did Carlisle, and we went to sit in the corner and wait for the waitress to bring it to us. The shop was mostly empty, and thankfully it only took a few minutes.

My heart stopped when she set the cups on the table, followed by two plates, and I felt the blood drain from my face.

Seeing my expression, Carlisle quickly corrected her, already reaching for my hand. "We didn't order anything other than our drinks," he reminded her politely.

She smiled at him, almost flirtatious in her response, and I was hit with wave of jealousy. "It's an 'early bird' special; if you order a drink before twelve, the boss throws in a muffin."

I felt like I was going to throw _up_ the damn muffin, keeping my eyes on the table and hoping that the bloody thing might vaporise. The fact that I _was_ actually hungry pissed me off, and I was suddenly far more resentful of my set of 'issues' than I usually was.

"You don't have to eat it, Garrett, it's okay," Carlisle whispered to me, squeezing my fingers.

"I-I kind of want t-to, b-but…" I wasn't entirely sure what was stopping me, apart from a panic attack.

"We could go sit in the car? Would that be better?" he suggested, offering me a reassuring smile when I glanced up at him.

I nodded slowly, still not entirely convinced. It all seemed fucking ridiculous, and I knew eventually I was going to have to explain to Carlisle what the actual fuck was wrong with me, before he thought I was completely insane.

He got up, paying for our drinks before I could tell him not to, and met me at the door, immediately holding my hand again.

"Thank you," I whispered to him as we settled again. "I'm sorry…"

"If it makes you that uncomfortable, then you don't need to be doing it; don't worry about it," he soothed, knotting our fingers together.

I swallowed thickly, wanting to clear up the issue a little bit. "I-I, um, when I was at school, kids used to tease me a lot…I was kind of a chubby kid, and it used to cause problems at lunch times…and I kind of got stuck on it, so I'm hyperaware of it every time I'm in public…it's ridiculous and kind of fucked up, I know, but…"

He hugged me suddenly, the movement a little awkward in the confines of the car. "I'm sorry they did that to you. We'll just have to be careful about what we plan to do, then."

"…I don't want to, though…I want to change it, but I panic every time." I forced a laugh, trying to ease the tightness in my chest.

"We'll do whatever you're comfortable with." He squeezed me again before pulling back.

"Why are you being so good about this?" I shot back, almost waiting for him to laugh and want to leave.

He frowned a little, glancing away. "Because I really like you, and I don't want you to be upset every time we're together. I don't want every date to be traumatic for you…and besides…I got the shit kicked out of me during high school too, I know how shitty kids can be…"

I stayed quiet, slowly picking apart the muffin, but I wasn't sure if my intention was to eat it or not. "…Why on earth would kids be mean to you? You're perfect." It hadn't meant to come out like that, nor did I really want those words to ever come out of my mouth, but I didn't think Carlisle's reaction had been a bad one.

His face flushed and he quickly looked down, awkward about the compliment. "I was different, so I didn't fit in all that well…and they kept teasing me for being gay, which I blatantly denied, but it looks like they weren't far off the mark," he laughed. There was a pause in our conversation.

"Do you want me to drive you home after this?" I asked him, hesitantly taking a bite of it.

He placed his hand on my leg, tracing circles against my jeans with his fingertip. "I suppose so; Alistair will already think I'm dead. Granted, he probably wouldn't be that sad about having the flat to himself."

I would be eternally grateful for him not commenting on it as I choked down a few mouthfuls, managing about half the muffin before my throat closed again and I couldn't do it anymore. He took my hand, and we drove in a comfortable silence back to his flat.

"Do you want to come in?" he asked me he got out of the car, apparently not at all perturbed at having me and Alistair in the same room again.

"Ah…will your flatmate be okay with that?" I reminded him. "I'm not sure he's in my favour…"

He rolled his eyes. "He can shove it. It's not like we're fucking in the kitchen; he's got nothing to complain about."

His take on the situation made me laugh, and I agreed, following him up the steps and into the building. Thankfully, Alistair was nowhere in sight.

Noticing my anxiety, Carlisle laughed to himself. "He doesn't hate you, Garrett. He's just an asshole. He's got no reason to be a jerk, but he'll do it anyway."

"Right…not fucking in the kitchen," I grumbled under my breathing, playfully glaring at him when he laughed again. We sat across from each other at the kitchen table, and the conversation was a lot lighter now than it had been in the car half an hour before. I was glad we'd talked about it, but I was more than happy to be off the subject. "So…if we were to fuck in the kitchen…how would that work, exactly?" I was only half teasing him, a little part of me genuinely curious about how this worked. I knew the logistics, obviously, but figuring out how I supposed to know what exactly he expected had my mind twisted, and I was a little too awkward to outright ask.

"We're never fucking in the kitchen. Ever," he dead panned, eyes wide as he shook his head at me.

"Never?" I teased.

"Jesus, Garrett, this is where food is made." He was trying to joke with me, but I could tell he was semi-serious, and his horrified reaction had me in stitches.

"Okay, but…hypothetically. If we were to do that, how would we…I mean, who would…"

He took a sip of his drink to avoid answering me, and although I should have been deterred by his discomfort around the subject, I found myself wanting to encourage it. Maybe being this close to Alistair's place of living was going to turn me into a jerk too.

"…We'll figure it out," he answered eventually, trying to get off the topic.

I tried to dodge his vague answer, feigning, innocence. "But when you're…intimate with someone, how do you decide…"

"It's not really a decision, Garrett…it just kind of happens. Generally, you know the person for a while first, so you sort of know what they like…"

"What if you both want the same thing?" I really couldn't figure out why I was enjoying this torment so much; it might have had something to do with how adorable he happened to be with his cheeks slightly pink as he fought to keep his face from flushing.

"…There are ways around that."

"Fine, but how am I supposed to know what to do, if you're not going to tell me what you like?" The blatant question made him choke a little, and he was suddenly very focused on the table.

I heard movement behind me, and glanced over my shoulder just in time to see the flatmate who I'd assumed was not home saunter into the kitchen with a smirk on his face. Although his presence had originally sent a wave of anxiety through my body, the look of impending doom on Carlisle's face had me chuckling.

"He's asking whether you top or bottom, Carlisle. Don't make the boy wait all day." It only took a second for the snappy remark I was waiting for to arrive.

"This had literally nothing to do with you," he grumbled back at him, definitely uncomfortable now. Starting to feel a little bad for getting him into this situation, I reached across the table to squeeze his fingers, offering him an apologetic smile.

"Well, I can assure you that your boy takes it up the-" He was grinning at me, standing behind Carlisle with both hands on his shoulders.

"Stop- stop it," Carlisle interrupted him, spinning around to face him as he stood up. He was laughing with us, but obviously didn't want his flatmate to take the joke as far as he was about to.

"I'll think about it." Alistair placed a condescending kiss on his forehead – grinning widely at me the entire time. I narrowed my eyes at him; if it was his plan to make me jealous, he was well on the way.

"Are you done?" He shook his head at him, sitting down again to get out from under his touch.

"Sure we are. Unless your _boyfriend_ has any other questions that I need to force you to answer?"

I obediently shook my head, laughing as Alistair released him again, heading over the TV and away from us again.

"…Is it okay he called you that?" Carlisle asked me, glancing up across the table, no longer joking.

"Yeah…I kind of like it, actually," I admitted, deciding I'd better spare him after the trauma I'd subjected him to.

He looked down again but was smiling, squeezing my fingers. "I kind of like it too…"


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you to all of you that reviewed, I'm glad someone else is enjoying my mess of an idea.**

My need to be around that boy was getting ridiculous. I spent almost every night texting him, or waiting for him to text me like a teenaged girl, and jumped at every chance I got to be with him. Whether what we were doing could technically be considered 'dating', I wasn't sure; we hardly ever actually went out together, aside from getting coffee, and even then we just sat in the car. We spent most of our time in my flat, on the couch, watching movies. Or occasionally at Carlisle's, when we both felt like we could stomach Alistair.

Once of the best parts of being at my place was that I continually had a reason to convince Carlisle to stay the night; my apartment was a lot closer to the book shop than his was, meaning it was theoretically easier for him to get there in the morning. Less easy when I was unwilling to let him get up at 6am. Even harder when it was cold. Like this morning.

I cringed as the alarm on his phone went off, shrinking back into the pillows and tightening my arms around his waist.

Groaning, he reached over to shut it off. A few peaceful minutes passed where he let me acclimatise to the idea of letting him go, before he rubbed my arm. "…I have to get up, or I'll be late."

"…It's still dark outside…" I grumbled at him, forcing myself to let him go. "And it's cold."

"Good thing you can stay in bed then, isn't it?" he teased, already up and starting to get his clothing again.

Being in bed wasn't the same without him here with me, but I sure as hell wasn't moving if I didn't have to. How he could be so happy this early was beyond me. I listened to the shower start, already starting to fall asleep again.

I woke up again as he kissed my forehead, still sleepy but coherent enough to grab his hand before he left. "Are you staying again tonight?"

Forever one step ahead of me, he set a mug of coffee next to me on the bedside table. "I can't; your brother is coming over, remember?"

"How do you keep track of my family better than I do? You've never even met them," I groaned. I'd completely forgotten that Eleazar and his family were coming tonight. Still, it had been longer than I would have liked since I had last seen them.

He just laughed. "Bye, Garrett. I'll call you tomorrow."

Tomorrow seemed like a long time, but I kept my mouth shut about it.

"And how have you been, Garrett? You weren't feeling well last time we were here," Eleazar reminded me as the conversation lapsed a little; he had never fully believed my last excuse, and I could hear the scepticism in his voice. So far, I'd managed to keep us mostly focused on my niece's upcoming birthday and her excitement over school, but my hopes of if staying that way until they left were quickly dashed.

"I've been, um, good." With a jolt of happiness, I realised that for the first time in a long time, it wasn't a lie. I looked down to hide a smile. "Really good, actually."

He raised his eyebrows. "Still no flowers this time, though." He grinned as I narrowed my eyes at him, thinking he had me in a box. "Who is she?"

"There is no 'she'," I grumbled at him. "Am I not allowed to be happy on my own?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "Yes, but you're more of a moping type. You don't do that, you never have."

"Well, maybe I do now." I met his gaze, refusing to give in. "Shut up and eat your food before it goes cold. I didn't make dinner for nothing."

"You'll make the perfect house wife, whoever she is." Amazingly, he did listen, picking away at his meal again.

Carmen kept her eyes on her plate but was hiding a smug smile. I wasn't sure what they thought they knew, but I was confident that it wasn't the truth.

Kate consumed the conversation then, babbling about starting school. She took Carmen's phone, showing me pictures of her new books and pencil case and the rest of the shit children supposedly needed to learn. I just hoped her experience was better than my own; I'd be labelled the 'creepy uncle' if I had to go into school to kick some kid's ass for laying a finger on my niece. She was happy now though, which was all that mattered.

Everything was going smoothly, until my phone buzzed against the table. I snatched it up before they could see the screen; I knew what it would be. I still couldn't fight off a smile, though; I may be considered clingy but everyone else's standards, but Carlisle was just as bad.

 _Coffee doesn't taste the same without you._ _Miss you already._

I wasn't cool enough to leave off replying for a few minutes, despite the amused smirk on my brother's face. I was just relieved he hadn't seen the name attached to the message; I really didn't want to 'come out' to my family just yet. Especially without Carlisle next to me.

Sleeping wasn't the same without him either. We generally only spent one or two nights a week together, so I spent the rest of them a little sleep deprived. For someone who'd never shared a bed with anyone until very recently, I was far too dependent on it. It was like some stupid sappy movie, where someone spent all their time pining for someone else they couldn't have.

Thankfully, tonight wasn't one of those nights. Calling upon your partner after midnight was usually reserved for sex, I knew, but cuddling was just as good. I'd been surprised that he'd even replied to me, ever more so when he readily agreed to me jokingly telling him I was coming over uninvited. So that's what was happening. I was driving across town in the middle of the night, to spend a few hours in bed with a boy before we both had to get up for work, and drive all the way back again. Worth it.

"Hey, Gavin," Alistair greeted me, almost smothering a smug smile as Carlisle let me in.

Carlisle shook his head at him. "Garrett. And don't be a jerk."

He just laughed, rolling his eyes. "Hey, you're the one trying to sneak boys in past your bedtime."

"Shut up," he grumbled at him. Alistair was more than convinced that the only reason we ever spent the night together was to fuck, although I could definitely see where that idea came from, given the circumstances. Carlisle didn't seem to care what he thought though, kissing me in front of him without hesitation.

I wasn't convinced that Alistair wasn't jealous. The uncomfortable look on his face whenever we touched made me wonder if he didn't want my boy for himself. He teased us relentlessly, but couldn't look at either of us whenever we sat too close together, or if Carlisle was holding my hand.

"Can we go to bed? I have to get up in five hours, and you have to be up in seven," Carlisle reminded me quietly, tugging me toward the hallway.

I certainly wasn't going to fight him on that, letting him take me without any objection.

The downside of staying at my boyfriend's flat on a worknight was that the next morning I was left alone with his asshole of a flatmate. Alistair didn't generally talk to me when Carlisle wasn't home, but it was still awkward as we worked around each other to make breakfast and a hot drink.

"Garrett," he started, pouring a cup of coffee.

I braced myself, steeling my nerves.

"If you hurt him - even a little - I will disembowel you."

I swallowed thickly, nodding. "I won't."

"You'd better not, because I _will_ hang you with your own organs," he threatened again.

"Dearly noted," I assured him. I took a moment to try and build up a little confidence before confronting him again. "Look, Alistair. I know you hate me, but I really like Carlisle and I would never do anything to hurt him."

"I don't hate you," he told me simply. "I don't like you, but I don't hate you either. I've lived with Carlisle since he moved over here, and honestly he never seemed happy until you came into the picture. But you have to understand, if you so much as dent that happiness, I'm coming for you." He didn't look at me as he spoke, and his voice was quiet.

"You think I make him happy…?"

"I _know_ you make him happy. He's got no one else over here except for you and I, and he certainly doesn't love me the way he loves you." Dropping a spoon in the sink, he abruptly took off down the hallway. Definitely jealous.

I spent the next few days with my head in the clouds, daydreaming over how I could get those words out of Carlisle's mouth instead of Alistair's, and hoping that they were actually true in the first place. My manager certainly wasn't pleased with the minute amount of work I was actually getting done, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

I wasn't quite so subtle about visiting the book shop anymore, and I ignored their damn papers on the way in. We hadn't seen each other since I'd stayed with him the other night, and I was a little relieved that there was a counter between us to remind me to behave myself. One quick glance around the room showed me that Carlisle was working alone today, and I waited impatiently for him to serve the one customer in here.

The door had barely swung shut behind the woman before Carlisle playfully pulled my tie, using it to make me lean down so he could kiss me over the counter top. It was far too brief though, and he laughed at the expression on my face as he pulled back again. "What'd you do to my flatmate?" he asked before I could get a word in.

"I didn't do anything; he threated to hunt me down and murder me if I dumped you because apparently you love me more than you love him," I teased, trying not to laugh so much I couldn't talk. "And then he stormed off to his room. I think Alistair has a little bit of a crush on you."

"He's really not a bad guy, I promise you," he laughed quietly, kissing me again.

"I know; he's just trying to keep you safe" I admitted. "Although, I'd prefer it he did so without my impending death."

He hesitated, and I waited for a sarcastic remark or a cheap jab in Alistair's name, but it never came. "And…He's not wrong."

"About what?"

"I do…love you…I love you, Garrett." He glanced up at me, but quickly looked down again when I didn't respond. "I-I…I'm sorry if it's a little soon, and you don't have to-"

I pulled him toward me, bringing our lips together again. "I love you too."

The doorbell rang as another customer came in, and we ripped apart, giddy and giggly. I impatiently waited for the other man to leave, but the minutes rolled into each other, and my lunch break was quickly dissolving. Glancing down at my watch with a sigh, I caught Carlisle's attention the next time he glanced at me over the man's shoulder, gesturing that I had to go and mouthing 'I love you' as I backed toward the door.

Watching me, he momentarily forgot the customer, quickly flustered as he was ripped back into reality by the man asking the same question for the third time.

Despite the rain, I walked back to work warm all over and completely untouchable; _he loved me back._


	10. Chapter 10

**I spilt the next character into two part, because it has a little bit of """""adult content""""" and I didn't want anyone to have to read anything that made them uncomfortable if they wanted to continue with the story and just avoid that bit. It's not particularly graphic, but I still wanted to warn you guys because I used to get really uncomfortable reading stuff like that after reading chapter upon chapter of nothing but innocent romance, and I didn't want to do that to anyone.**

 **So this is part 1, and is 100% clean, more or less.  
Part 2 is the one to avoid if you don't want to read anything of that nature.  
If you don't want to read any of it because the entire subject is weird, that's fine too and we'll be back to normal next update.**

 **Thanks for bearing with me!**

Having him in the kitchen with me wasn't as off-putting as I thought it was going to be. Not when his fingertips brushed against mine as he handed me things, or he laughed at my stupid, nervous jokes. It may have been helped by the fact that none of this shit had to pass my lips; the cake and cream and god knows what else was going straight to Eleazar's house and into a group of sticky children.

Kate's party was later this afternoon and I forced myself to stay in a good mood, but leaving my boyfriend in order to hang out with a bunch of judgmental parents wasn't something I was in favour of. "Hey, Carlisle?" I asked slowly, contemplating how Eleazar would react if I were to turn up with a guest. "You wanna come to a birthday party?"

He hesitated, pausing with his hand on the bottle of milk. "…With your family…?"

"It'll only be my brother and his wife. Plus the parents of the other kids," I explained, setting the bowl down and using the belt-loop of his jeans to pull him closer. "You don't have to; I'm not going to be mad if you don't-"

He cut me off with a kiss, abrupt but gentle. "I'll come with you…just, Eleazar has never met me…it wont upset him if I'm there?"

"His house will be full of strangers anyway. He shouldn't care." I quickly stole another kiss before letting him go. "Here, taste this." Grabbing a fork, I dipped it in the cake batter.

Laughing, he let me feed it to him, kissing me again immediately afterwards. It was a little more heated this time, but over just as quickly.

"It's okay?" I teased. Unable to resist pushing my luck, I did the same thing again, only this time setting the fork down and using my fingertip instead. I wasn't sure if it would make him uncomfortable, but by the time the thought crossed my mind it was already too late.

He reacted as I'd hoped though, shyly bringing his lips to my finger. His tongue against my skin felt amazing and I suppressed a moan.

I was sure my heart skipped a beat as I felt the chocolatey substance against the inside of my wrist, and I had to grip the bench to keep from grabbing Carlisle as he teasingly licked it off again.

This time it was against my collar bone, and his teeth gazed my skin as he tangled his fingers in my shirt, pulling me closer. His lips met mine a second later, gentle and nervous, but kind of urgent. The taste of the cake mixture made the kiss even sweeter.

I couldn't stop myself, holding his waist and pulling him into me, unable to keep from grinding against him. I accidently let out a whimper as he tangled his fingers in my hair, every little move he made driving me insane. This was boarding for too close to the 'fucking in the kitchen' conversation of a few months back.

He smiled teasingly upon hearing it, playfully biting my lip. Pulling away, he drew back a little, leaning against the bench as he sucked the cake mixture off his own finger, looking innocently up at me the whole time.

 _Fuck_. Stepping forward to have him in my arms again, I kissed the base of his neck, smiling when he melted into me.

Suddenly, he pushed me back again, spraying whipped cream at me before I had a chance to react. I couldn't do anything but laugh as I looked down to find it all over my shirt.

"I guess you're going to have to take that off then, hmm?" Carlisle teased, fighting joining me in laughing and licking the cream off the end of the nozzle.

I hesitated, instantly nervous and my stomach twisted a little. I quickly reminded myself that this was Carlisle. The boy that insisted I was cute when I looked disgusting, had taken me home for dinner when I was crying and listened to me rant endlessly about how much of an asshole my boss was on a regular basis and somehow still loved me.

My hands still shook as I slowly unbuttoned it, and I was fighting not to hyperventilate. Carlisle's kisses were helping to distract me a little, making it easier to come to terms with what was happening. Somehow finding a burst of confidence, I made a point of getting some of it on his own clothing, managing to get a bit of it in his hair before he had time to stop me.

"Asshole," he laughed. "I only washed that this morning."

"I know," I teased back, my nerves easing completely. "You still smell like sunshine and fabric-softener." I ran my fingers through his hair, giving him no opportunity to stop me from making his situation worse. Throwing my shirt behind me and onto the floor, I was struck by how easy that actually was.

Carlisle watched me do it, but when I glanced down at him again he looked a little nervous himself.

"What's wrong?" I leant down to kiss him again. It hit me like a ton of bricks; he'd been as nervous about this moment as I had been. "I love you," I told him. Trying to get back some of the fun and ease his anxiety around it, I picked up the can of cream again, making more of a mess of his clothing than it already was.

"I love you too," he replied, managing to get cake mixture all over me before I could gain control of his hands.

Walking backwards and leading him forwards at the same time, I kept going until we hit the couch, falling back onto it and pulling him on top of me. Our lips met and I wrapped my arms around his waist, hugging him against me as he tangled his fingers in my hair.

Rolling so that he was underneath me and supporting myself with one knee either side of him, I tried to figure out how far we were going to take this tonight. I certainly knew where I wanted to go with this, watching him pull his shirt over his head, but I was horrifically nervous I'd do something wrong.

He semi-answered the question for me, running his finger along the waist of my pants before looking up at me. Sitting up a little, he kissed my neck, playfully tasting the mixture of chocolate and cream we were both covered in. His lips slowly made their way down my body, and I gave in to the pleasure of it

Taking this as permission, I ran my hands down his sides, leaving them on his waist as we both became accustomed to the idea of touching each other like this. I quickly came to the conclusion that if either of us were going to get anywhere, it wasn't going to be here on the couch; lying like this was fucking awful. It was hard to think over Carlisle's teasing touches, and I grabbed his hands, pinning them against the couch above his head and knotting my fingers through his. "I think we should move," I told him, chuckling to myself when he tried to pull himself free. "We're going to end up hurting each other."

He gave up and glared playfully at me. "You're going to have to get off me, then."

I swallowed thickly as we went into the bedroom; as much as I wanted this, I was terrified. Tugging me forward, Carlisle sat on the edge of the bed, giving me the opportunity to push him back again.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, grabbing my hand and squeezing it.

"Y-yeah…just…nervous." I forced a smile, but my legs felt weak.

"Have you done this before?" Pushing me off him, he lay next to me, one arm around my waist while the other hand played with my hair.

"…You're my first boyfriend, Carlisle…" I reminded him, even more anxious now he'd forgotten that.

"I know, but you can do this with girls too," he teased, kissing me immediately afterward.

My stomach was in knots suddenly, and I avoided eye contact as I shook my head. When he tried to reassure me that sex in general was still a little experience even if it wasn't this particular 'type' of sex, and that it didn't really matter in the first place, I had to stop him. "Carlisle…I haven't…you're my first…I haven't had a partner before at all, and…" I felt my face become warm and I refused eye contact.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to." He kissed my forehead, his fingers teasing the back of my neck. "If you're uncomfortable with anything, just say stop and we won't do it."

I shook my head, pulling him closer again. "I want to, I just…I'm scared of hurting you…"

"You wont, Garrett, I promise." He let our lips meet this time, and my nerves were dissolving a little.


	11. Chapter 11

**Part two: the less clean stuff. No where near as graphic as some other stuff I've seen around, but still, you were warned!**

I shook my head, pulling him closer again. "I want to, I just…I'm scared of hurting you…"

"You wont, Garrett, I promise." He let our lips meet this time, and my nerves were dissolving a little.

"You have to tell me if it does…" I made him promise.

"Of course I will, but you'll be fine." He planted a kiss on my chest, trailing his fingers down my back. "We could have a safe word, if that would make you more comfortable?"

Forcing a few deep breaths, I ran my fingers through his hair. "What about just 'stop'? Then there's no confusion…"

He nodded, continuing with teasing touches and kisses as he tried to calm me down a bit. "Tell me when you've had enough, and that's as far as we'll go."

I bit my lip, strangling a moan as I felt his fingers against the inside of my thigh. "…Oh god…"

He stopped immediately. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah…" I felt my face flush red.

Laughing, he let our lips meet, partially holding me still when I tried to grind against him. I desperately needed some kind of friction, but he was taking it painfully slowly, scared of freaking me out.

"Shit-Carlisle please," I pleaded, unsure whether I loved or hated it. My fingers dug into the bed as he slid my underwear down, and he slowly kissed his way down my body. I felt his teeth against the inside of my thigh before he abruptly took me inside on his mouth. "Fuck." Without thinking, my fingers were in his hair, pulling too roughly, but I couldn't control myself. All too soon, I realised I was going to lose it. "Carlisle, wait…" Forcing deep breaths to try and calm myself, I made myself let go of him.

"Hmm?" More kisses, this time against my neck as he lay next to me again.

"Y-you're not…I want you to enjoy this too…" I was struggling to keep my wits about me enough to speak.

"This is fine, Garrett, don't worry." His hand on my thigh again, and I was on the point of begging him to touch me.

"N-no…I…"

"You what?" he teased, running his fingers through my hair to stop it sticking to my face.

"…I want to fuck you…"

It had the desired effect, he choked on the air in his throat. "Um, what?"

I pushed him onto his back, unsure of myself but wanting to do _something_. My heart was racing in my chest, and I was full of adrenaline. "You…you've, ah…you said that you liked…um…and I want to try that…"

He laughed, leaning up to kiss me. It quickly became more heated and he wrapped his arms around my neck to pull himself off the bed as I tried to pull his underwear off him. He eventually ended up taking pity on me when I took too long to do it.

"Stay here." Placing my hand on his chest, I held him down against the mattress, kissing him one last time before getting up. I ignored his teasing remark about a lack of organisation, throwing lube and a condom at him instead.

He pulled me close again one I was near him. "Are you sure you're okay doing this?"

I nodded, kissing his cheek. Sitting back, I fought with the condom while he opened the lube. " _Please_ tell me if I do something wrong and I hurt you," I pleaded, kissing him and sliding in my first finger at the same time. I was glad I hadn't warned him, judging by the response he had.

"Shit- fuck me, Garrett," His hands tightened around my arms and he sunk his teeth into his lip.

"That was the plan, Carlisle," I teased, deepening the kiss. I must have been doing something right, because Carlisle could barely speak to me.

This continued for a few minutes until I was really struggling not to rush, desperately trying not to lose control of myself. "Garrett…" He pulled my hands away, moving a little to make it easier for me.

Resting my head against his shoulder, I tried to steady myself as I slowly pushed into him, groaning at how good it felt. "It that okay?" I asked breathlessly.

"Fuck, yeah…" He moved against me when I was too scared to, and we quickly found a rhythm that worked for both of us. I barely had enough sense to remember how to breathe, and the only words I knew were a few curses and Carlisle's name, but he was still kissing me, his teeth occasionally nipping my neck.

That all abruptly stopped and his fingers dug into my back and he pulled out of the kiss. At first I'd assumed I'd hurt him, but with a grin I realised it was quite the opposite; I'd watched enough porn to know I'd just hit his prostate. I desperately tried to recreate the same angle so I could do it again, but I only knew I managed at when he swore under his breath, becoming a little more frantic as he tried to find something to hold on to.

"Holy shit, Garrett…" He kissed me roughly but I wasn't coherent enough to respond well. I wasn't sure how he was being so quiet; I wouldn't be able to face the neighbours in the morning judging by how loud I was being.

"…I'm really close," I admitted reluctantly.

"Me too." Capturing my face in his hands, his kissed me gently. The soft gesture seemed a little out of place, but the sweetness of it had my head spinning.

A second later and I was done for, burying my face in the crook of his neck as I rode of my orgasm. Carlisle wasn't far behind me, squeezing me tightly.

It took us both a few minutes to catch our breath. I rolled off Carlisle and onto my back, grinning at the ceiling. Without warning, Carlisle put his hand on my chest, and I closed my fingers over it, gently squeezing it. He smiled at me when I glanced over at him.

"I cant believe we're going to a little kid's birthday party after that," he teased, apparently not as exhausted as I was. Maybe I should have been embarrassed about my recovery time, but I was too relaxed to care.

I groaned; there was no way in hell I wanted to move now. Staying in bed would have suited me just fine; I couldn't feel my damn legs. "Eleazar might not be so accepting of another guest if I told him."

"That would mean we wouldn't have to move, right? Maybe we should tell him." Lying back again, he folded one arm across his face to block out the light. "That could be a good conversation starter; We were late because your brother just fucked me senseless?"

Quite frankly, he was making more sense than I was. "Be my guest."

"I _am_ your guest," he countered without missing a beat. He slid closer, sitting up a little.

"No, you're my boyfriend. It's different," I protested, wrapping my arm around him and pulling him into me.

He kissed my cheek, hugging my waist. "How?"

"I don't like having guests, but I like having you here." I kissed the top of his head, squeezing him a little tighter.

He just laughed, rolling his eyes at me. "What are we going to do about the cake?"

"Can we talk about it when I have sensation in my legs again?" I groaned.

"Deal." As he lay back down, I felt all the tension leave his body. It only lasted a few minutes before he moved again, sitting up to glance at the clock on the dresser.

"What?"

"What _are_ we going to do? I don't need Eleazar to hate me for screwing his brother _and_ ruining his child's birthday party which I was never actually invited to."

"I don't know," I complained, starting to become aware enough for it to actually be an issue. "We have to clean ourselves up first; I know for a fact he wouldn't be happy if either of us turned up in this state." Forcing myself to get up, I dragged myself to my closet to find clean clothes. "Unless you want to turn up covered in food, we're going to have to wash your clothes."

He groaned. "Shit…I forgot about that." Getting to his feet, he went and collected our stuff off the floor, somehow coherent enough to shove it into the washing machine and get it going.

Abandoning my task, I grabbed him when he walked past, pulling him into my arms again. He reached up to kiss me again immediately, wrapping his arms around my neck. "We need to shower."

"That's not a bad thing," he teased, pressing his lips against my collar bone.

"Don't start something you can't finish," I warned, pushing him backwards into the bathroom and into the shower.

"I'm not starting anything," he told me, picking up the shower gel and proceeding to run his hands up my arms and across my chest, effectively washing me.

Jesus Christ. If you can't beat them, join them, I guess.

I ran my fingers though his hair, starting the same process of 'washing'. As soon as I touched his shoulders though, he stopped what he was doing, knotting his fingers behind my neck and pulling himself up to kiss me.

I let it continue for a few minutes, just teasing touches and kisses, but I was forced to stop when I felt myself being wound up again. "We're going to be late." Placing one last firm kiss on his lips, I picked up the shower gel and washed myself down properly.

He rolled his eyes at me, but pulled himself together enough to copy me.

I threw a towel and something to put on at him, going into the bedroom to get myself dressed. It was a task I'd rather not have my boyfriend watch – he didn't need to see how finicky I became when it came down to me picked a shirt to wear – and I hoped that he would be occupied while I did it. Thankfully, I had gotten my shit together before he came and sat on the bed.

Carlisle looked fucking adorable wearing boxers and my over-sized sweatshirt, but he didn't appreciate it when I told him so. "It's not my fault you got food all over my clothes."

I pulled him forward by a fistful of the jumper. "You started it."

He hugged my waist. "Maybe, but you let me," he teased.

"I don't regret being a little late if it means I get to have you like this." I sat next to him, smiling as he leant his cheek against my shoulder, kissing my neck.

"Me neither."

 **And now it's on the internet forever.**


	12. Chapter 12

**CentauRita, your reviews never fail to make me laugh! Glad you enjoyed.**

 **I'm still trying to figure out how to get the paragraph breaks to show up in this format, so I apologise for everything being stuck together all the time, and I am trying to fix it because it's driving me absolutely insane.**

We ended up stopping at a bakery on the way to Eleazar's to pick up something to take, seeming as our baking went out the window. Carlisle promised to help me clean up the kitchen when we came home again, seeming as we were already running late and didn't have time to do it before we left.

I knew he was getting a little nervous now that we were on our way there, and I kept my hand on his thigh as we drove. He covered my hand with his, forcing a smile. "It'll be alright, Carlisle. My family doesn't bite," I assured him. He hadn't seemed too worried about it at all when we were still in my apartment, but now reality seemed to be hitting him a little hard.

Carlisle dropped my hand as we waited for someone to open the door, nervously folding his arms instead. I wrapped my arm around his waist, rubbing his side. "Just be yourself; they'll love you," I promised him.

Carmen hugged me immediately upon opening the door. "I'm so glad you came! I haven't seen you in ages, and we were worried you wouldn't come," she told me, shaking her head in mock annoyance.

"You and I both know Eleazar would kill me if I bailed on your little one's birthday," I teased back.

"Carlisle, right?" she asked, taking the cake from him and hugging him as well. "It's nice to meet you. I've heard your name a few times now."

He mumbled something polite and I shook my head at her for dobbing me in. Once I'd let his name slip once, and they hadn't reacted, I hadn't bothered about hiding the time I spent with him anymore – omitting the romantic parts, of course.

"I'm just teasing," she giggled, leading us inside. "Come, your parents are here too. They turned up last minute."

I watched the blood drain from Carlisle's face the minute 'parents' were mentioned. "For all they know, you're just my friend," I reminded him, rubbing his back before breaking the contact.

As soon as we stepped into the room I knew I'd thrown Carlisle in the deep end. There were kids everywhere, it was loud, all the parents knew each other, and to top it all off, most of my family were here. It was not the little birthday Eleazar had made it out to be after all.

Kate immediately charged at me, squealing as she did so. "Uncle Garrett!" She threw herself at my feet, hugging my legs until I picked her up. Carlisle couldn't resist a smile at the name she called me, and I elbowed him for it.

"Happy birthday, Katie," I chuckled, trying to hold her in a position that was more comfortable than the one she had gotten herself in. Somehow, she seemed bigger than before, although birthdays didn't _actually_ represent an immediate change of height.

I could see he was nervous, but my boyfriend seemed to slot in with my family rather well. Eleazar and my father immediately pulled him into some conversation regarding the latest sporting matches – something I knew Carlisle was way out of his depth with – and the laughs and giggles carried on as normal. He kept close to me, unwilling for us to be separated, but managed to pull off 'calm' pretty well.

The party dragged on far longer than I had anticipated. There was food and presents and party games and complete chaos, and it went on for hours. After an hour or so, I realised I'd completely lost track of Carlisle's whereabouts. It was the first time since we had gotten here that his hand was more than ten inches from mine, and I missed him as I thought about it.

I wandered through the house in search of him, eventually finding him cutting vegetables to help Carmen and my mother cook dinner. I watched from the doorway for a while, unwilling to interrupt the scene. I quickly realised why; the three of the were avid readers, and I knew my mother and sister-in-law could talk about books all day, and Carlisle certainly wouldn't turn down the opportunity.

"Need any more help?" I asked after a while, laughing when they all jumped.

"You can come here and stir this," mum directed, holding out a spoon and pointing to a pot.

"Did you teach Garrett how to cook?" Carlisle asked her as she stood next to him at the sink. His attempt at polite conversation was cute, if nothing else, but my mother seemed to enjoy it. "He's great at it…"

"Sort of, but he didn't want to listen to his mother. He knew the basics when he left home, and then learned the rest himself," she told him, unable to resist a cheap jab at me. "What's your cooking like? Eleazar is the worst."

"You can say that again," Carmen muttered under her breath.

"Mediocre at best," he told her, laughing nervously.

"Well, hang around my son for long enough, and I'm sure he'll teach you," she chuckled, giving me a pointed look. "Won't you, Garrett?"

"Whatever you say, mother," I teased, rolling my eyes.

Dinner was delicious, to say the least. For the first time in a long time, I felt okay about eating in front of a group of people; it seemed less traumatising with Carlisle by my side. Whenever I glanced up at him, he gave me a reassuring smile, his hand on my thigh under the table. Whenever I felt the lump start to form in my throat, I forced myself to focus on his proximity to me, and the feeling would subside a little.

He pulled me aside as I got up from the table, and we ended up standing alone on the back deck together. "I'm so proud of you," he murmured, pulling me down for a kiss and holding my face in his hands.

I relaxed completely, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him into me. "You're the one who just handled meeting the majority of my family." I ran my hand up his back, smiling when I felt his lips against my collarbone. "I promise I'll take you home soon, though. Sorry we've been here so long."

"It's fine, but they're going to miss us if we stay out here much longer," he reminded me, squeezing me affectionately before wriggling out of my grasp.

I shook my head at him and followed him inside.

An hour later, and I'd been watching Carlisle for a while as he stayed sitting at the table, focused on his phone. He had stopped interacting with anyone around him at all, and I assumed he just wanted to go home now. He'd done amazingly well, to be fair to him. I sat down in the chair in front of him, close enough that our legs were touching, and told him so.

He glanced up, shifting a little. "…Can we go for a walk? I think I need to get outside for a bit…"

I nodded, offering him my hand to pull himself up on as I stood. I couldn't blame him for feeling a little claustrophobic after the last few hours. As soon as we were a little way from the house, I threaded my fingers through his, squeezing his hand. It was more than dark now, despite it only being early evening. Damn winter.

He stayed quiet, offering me an apologetic smile but nothing else. We walked for little while until we came to a park bench, and Carlisle asked if we could stop for a bit.

Confused, I sat next to him, my hand on the small of his back while he leant forward. He braced himself against his knees, resting his head on his arms.

The night air was cold, and we didn't have much more than a dim street light and the glow of a couple of shops across the road. There were plenty of stars out as well, but Carlisle didn't look up when I mentioned them, just nodding instead. I let it slide, tracing circles with my thumb against his shirt. "Are you alright?" I asked after a while, not able to stand his silence without knowing what was going through his head.

" …I feel like I'm going to puke," he mumbled glancing up at me.

It took me off guard a little, and I instinctively shifted a little closer to him. "I'll take you home, Carlisle." I kissed his cheek, trying to reassure him.

He sat back a little, leaning against the seat and folding his arms across his stomach. "I think I'll be okay, I just…need a minute."

I nodded as he offered me a weak smile. Rubbing his leg, I waited while he forced a few deep breaths, eventually calming himself down enough to rest his head against my shoulder, relaxing slightly. "Feeling any better?" I asked warily, seeing that he was a little too pale and kind of warm. He didn't respond to me, but I didn't need him to. "I'll just say goodbye to my family, and we can go home," I promised, pulling him to his feet and kissing his forehead.

"…I'm sorry, Garrett," he told me as we approached the house.

"It's okay. Things didn't turn out the way I thought they would. I didn't mean to throw you in front of my family without warning." I squeezed his hand before dropping it once the door was in sight.

"They're all really nice. Your brother didn't seem to want to murder me, so that's a plus."

I laughed. "Yeah, but he doesn't know you're my boyfriend, yet."

His silence reminded me that he wasn't feeling good, and I made sure I was quick as I let everyone else know we were going.

As we waited at _another_ set of traffic lights, I tried to control my frustration. Carlisle leant his head back against the seat, sighing and drumming his fingers against his thigh. I didn't know what was wrong, but I knew he was violently uncomfortable.

He glanced over at me, repressing a moan. "Shit, Garrett…how much longer…?" Holding one hand against his stomach, the other gripped the seat so tightly his knuckles were white. I interpreted this as 'I'm going to throw up, but I'm too shy to outright ask to stop'.

His flat was still twenty-five minutes away, but mine was only ten, so I made the choice for him and continued to drive back to my place. "Not long." I placed my hand on his leg, tracing the seam of his jeans with my finger in hope of distracting him.

"Fuck," he whispered under his breath. I knew I wasn't supposed to have heard it, and he reached for my hand.

"Are you still feeling sick?" I asked him, squeezing his fingers.

Nodding slowly, he swallowed thickly, really fighting it.

"Tell me if you want to stop for a bit."

Carlisle was getting more and more nervous. The more time we spent trying to pull out into traffic or waiting for a light to turn green, the more fidgety he became. I didn't think he'd realised that I wasn't taking him back to his own flat yet, but in the state he was in, I didn't think he would care.

He stayed silent as we pulled up outside my building, but glanced over at me for confirmation that it was okay he was here.

"I'm not going to make you go all the way across town when you're not feeling the best." I kissed the back of his fingers, and he gave me a weak smile.

Once we came in the door, we settled on the couch to watch the tail-end of a late-night movie. It was only after Carlisle's abrupt movement shook me awake that I realised I had drifted off. The bathroom door slamming a second later got me aware enough to move, and I traced the sound of it. I got to the doorway just in time to see Carlisle vomit into the toilet, barely making it in time. There wasn't much I could do but watch as everything he'd eaten came rushing back up and his body convulsed.

I ran my fingers through his hair to stop it sticking to his face, running my hand down his back. His clothing was wet but cold; his fever making him sweat but quickly sucking the heat out of his body. "I'm going to get you a bucket, and then we're going to bed," I told him as he apologetically glanced up at me.

Going into the bedroom, I turned on the lamp next to the bed, straightening the blankets a bit so they were a little easier to sleep in. I grabbed a bucket from the laundry and dropped it beside the bed, getting a glass of water and a cold cloth and setting them on the bedside table as well.

"Come here, Carlisle." I slowly pulled him to his feet, letting him lean against me while he got his bearings back. He immediately tried to hug his stomach, but needed to hold onto me to keep from falling. I let him move as his own pace as I took him into the bedroom again.

"…thanks…" he mumbled, taking the glass from me when I offered it to him.

"Do you want to get changed?" I kissed his cheek, holding my hand against his forehead and frowning at the temperature. "You'll probably feel a bit better."

He nodded slowly, reluctantly wriggling out of his clothing and into the clothes I offered him. He moved like his entire body ached, which I had no doubt it did.

I wiped his face with the cloth, trying to cool him down a bit, but it didn't help much and he cringed at the gesture. I got changed as well and crawled up the bed, getting Carlisle to do the same. He lay next to me and tried to keep his distance, but I pulled him closer, resting my chin on the top of his head while he leant his cheek against my chest. I slowly ran my hand up and down his back, relieved as I felt him relax slightly.

"…I'm so sorry about tonight…" His voice was muffled by my shirt.

"Don't be." I squeezed him gently and he managed to let go of himself and wrap one arm around my waist. "Get some sleep."

I wasn't entirely sure what was happening as I woke up. The clock read two thirty AM, and I rolled over, relieved I didn't have to get up for work yet. Stretching out, I reached across the bed in search of Carlisle. My hand was met with empty sheets, and I quickly sat up.

Switching on the lamp next to me, I called out to him. I slid out of bed when I didn't get response from him, feeling my pulse pick up. "Carlisle?"

My relief to find him in the kitchen was short lived. He was sitting at the table, resting his head against one arm while the other squeezing his waist. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be in bed?" I kissed the base of his neck, hugging his shoulders.

His temperature had come down a little, but he was still too warm. "…I didn't want to wake you up…tried to be quiet…"

"Jesus, Carlisle." I sat in the seat next to him, rubbing his leg. He looked like he felt awful, and I knew by how he was sitting that he was in pain. "Your stomach's hurting, huh?"

He nodded tiredly, clearly worse for wear.

"Are you still being sick?"

"…yeah…think I've got food poisoning…"

Honestly, it wouldn't have surprised me. The 'bring a plate' food system wasn't the most hygienic thing in the world, especially with little kids around. "If it was that, then I would be sick too. It must be a virus." We'd both eaten the same thing.

Sighing quietly and gritting his teeth, he curled into himself a little more. I felt helpless; I didn't know what to do to ease the pain any. He didn't give me time to think, rushing forward to vomit into the sink.

I scrubbed a hand over my face, trying to wake myself up a bit. "Is it worse when you're lying down? How'd you end up out here?"

"…I didn't want to keep you awake all night…" he forced a tired smile, and I slowly shook my head at him.

"I'd rather be up all night with you than you being alone," I grumbled at him. "Come back to bed. You'll feel even worse in the morning if you don't sleep." Wrapping my arm around him, I pulled him into me and started to lead him back down the hallway.

Wanting to double over, he was leaning against me. He collapsed against the bed once he was able to, immediately curling up and hugging his stomach. It seemed to spasm, and he winced, unable to hold back a whimper.

I carefully sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the blankets over him and rubbing his back. "I can find you some pain relief?" I kissed his cheek as he nodded slowly. "I'll be back in a minute, then." Going to the kitchen cupboard, I dug out the medicine, encouraged a little when I remember it was supposed to make you sleepy.

Carlisle quickly swallowed the pills when I handed them to him, but gagged as soon as they hit his stomach. His body convulsed and he scrambled to get the bucket, everything coming straight back up again.

"Jesus." I rubbed his back, running my fingers through his hair. I kissed his forehead, ignoring when he cringed away from me.

"…I'm so sorry, Garrett…" he mumbled, out of breath.

"Do you want to try again with the pills?" When he shook his head, I lay beside him, pulling him into me. He immediately cuddled into my side, resting his head on my chest. Slowly rubbing his side seemed to help him relax a little bit, and I knew he was tired. "Do you think you can sleep for a bit?"

He nodded, already halfway there now he was lying down. Eventually his shivering slowed, and I kept my arms around him as I fell asleep.

All too soon, he moved suddenly, barely having time to grab the bucket before he was vomiting again. Too sleepy to really be aware of what was happening, I stayed lying on my side, rubbing my hand up and down his back as a weak form of comfort. He slid away from me and stood up, mumbling something about water and disappearing for a few minutes. I reached for him again as soon as he was beside me, wanting to keep him warm.

I hadn't realised that Carlisle had been gone until he tripped upon trying to get back in bed, and this time I forced myself to sit up. "Have you gotten much sleep?" It was a long fucking night, and I'd been asleep for most of it, so he must have felt like shit by now.

He shook his head, awkwardly sitting on the edge of the bed. "…no…it hurts to lie flat for too long…"

"It's almost four o'clock," I sighed, trying to figure out what I was going to do with him.

"I know…" he mumbled, climbing back under the blankets and gingerly lying down again.

"You'll tell me if there's anything I can do to help you, wont you?" I shuffled closer to him, moulding my body to the shape of his. His hand immediately shot up to protect his stomach as I hugged him, and I was overly cautious not to touch him there. "I'll be careful, Carlisle," I assured him, kissing his neck. "Just get some rest."

I called Carlisle's manager first thing the next morning; there was no way he was going to work if he'd been awake until four AM throwing up. Not on my watch, anyway. I took his phone out of the room as well, disabling any alarms that would pose a threat.

That being done, I tidied the kitchen after yesterday's baking adventure. I knew Carlisle would feel bad for not helping me once he realised, but it was far more important that he slept instead. As ten AM rolled around, I started to become antsy; I didn't know whether I should wake up him – he really needed to sleep – but I really wanted to check on him.

In the end, I gave up, getting a glass of water and going back to the bedroom; I needed to know if he was okay.

"Hey, Carlisle…." I crouched in front of him, rubbing his arm until he glanced up at me. I forced a smile, but it quickly dissolved when he forced back a whimper, hugging his stomach but jerking back at the pressure.

"…hey…I-I'm sorry…" He sunk his teeth into his lip to keep from making any other sound.

I shook my head at his apology, kissing his cheek. If he apologised again, I was going to have to hit him. "It's okay. Are you feeling any better?" I asked hopefully. He hesitated, and it was enough for me to know the answer. "Will you drink?" Not giving him much of an option, I shoved the glass into his hands. It all came back up again before he's managed more than a few mouthfuls.

"…Garrett…I have to go to work…" he mumbled after catching his breath, glancing over to find his phone but confused over it's whereabouts.

 _No fucking way, Cullen._ I leant forward to kiss his forehead, running my fingers through his hair. "I've already called your manager. You're staying in bed today."


	13. Chapter 13

I laughed as Carlisle rejected the fourth call from Alistair this morning. Dropping his phone onto the bed, he lay back down again, folding one arm over his face to block out the light. "Why are you avoiding him?" I asked.

"Because he's only going to-" It rang again, almost immediately, and he groaned, reluctantly answering it this time. "What?"

Chuckling at his harsh reply, I focused on the ceiling, half listening to their conversation, and half pretending I wasn't.

"' _I'll be back in a few hours, Alistair_ ,'" the voice down the phone mocked, imitating a British accent. I had to suppress my smile at how terrible it was; Carlisle's was very subtle anyway, so Alistair was only making himself look bad, really. "What's this overnight, shit?"

Too tired to process any kind of snappy comeback, it took him a minuet to answer. "I don't have a curfew," he grumbled instead, really just needing to go back to sleep.

"Listen, you, I like getting laid as much as the next guy, but I don't abandon my best friend on a Saturday night to play sleepovers with my boyfriend," he grumbled back.

"Abandoned, huh?" I teased quietly, grinning. Blowing my cover was worth the opportunity.

He playfully pushed my leg, rolling his eyes. "Don't guilt trip me; you leave me alone all the time, and you know it," he told him. Although he was smiling, his voice still didn't sound quite normal, and his flatmate immediately picked up on it.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just…tired." Only half the truth.

"Garrett's been keeping you up all night, huh?" His teasing was weary now, like he didn't believe him.

"More the other way around, I think," he mumbled, glancing over at me in silent apology.

I didn't think that Alistair was buying it, but he let it slide, proceeding to mock him relentlessly until Carlisle agreed to go home soon. I frowned at the thought of it, but I couldn't hold him hostage forever.

It had taken him the best part of a week to bounce back again, but by the following Friday, he was as bright as normal. When he'd invited me around that night, I'd assumed that we were spending some time in front of the TV, considering he's been in pretty damn sick less than a week before, but that was definitely not the case.

* * *

"Carlisle, where are we going?" I demanded for what seemed like the millionth time. We'd been sitting on a bus for the best part of three hours – although I'd slept through most of it, thank god. He'd dragged me out of bed at six in the morning, forced me to pack a hell of a lot of warm clothing, and then refused to tell me where we were headed. There was a suspicious amount of snow gear around me, so I could guess.

He laughed at me, shaking his head. "It's pretty. You'll like it, I promise."

I rolled my eyes at him, but I couldn't deny that I wasn't at least a little excited; surprise dates were the height of romance, right? I happened to glance out the window, just as we passed an arrow with 'parking for ski field' written on it in messy hand writing. "Are you taking me outside?" I asked, distastefully.

"Yep."

I pushed him lightly and he laughed. "I swear to god, if we get lost in the wilderness, I'm never speaking to you again."

"Don't be dramatic," he teased, undoing both of our seatbelts as the bus came to a stop. He was overly eager to get out, grinning as he jumped out into the snow.

I carefully eased myself to the ground, glad now that I'd listened to his instructions regarding footwear and jackets. Although the carpark was mostly clear of snow, the moment we were out of it we were wading through powder. Just as I'd got my footing, working out how to walk through knee-deep flour, a snowball hit my shoulder. I cringed as little bits of it dripped down the collar of my jacket and melted against my skin.

Somehow, Carlisle had managed to get a good ten feet away from me, grinning as he watched me brush it off myself.

"Did you bring me here just so you can through stuff at me?" I complained, narrowing my eyes at him as he collected another handful of snow and compacted it down.

"Fuck yeah, I did," he teased, tossing it at me.

This time I managed to raise my arm in time to break its impact, finding myself laughing before I could stop myself. I ran forward a few steps, quickly stopping when I realised I was going to fall to my death if I continued. Thankfully, he was nice enough to wait for me to gain some ground before subjecting me to another round of fire.

Most of the time, he managed to hit me – his aim was a hell of a lot better than mine – but the only time I ever managed to get him was when he stepped into them, taking pity of me. It was fun though, and we were both laughing and out of breath by the time he came to stand next to me again, taking my hand walking with me up the hill.

I was very out of breath by the time we got up there, but Carlisle wasn't even slightly red. Of course he wasn't. Of course he'd left the being gross and sweaty part to me. Still, letting him go ahead of me had it's benefits; he was ridiculously adorable _this_ overexcited by frozen water. He seemed to forget I was even there in the first place, wandering over and sitting on the ground to overlook the ski fields.

That wasn't where he was focused though. To the left of where he was sitting was a dense area of forestry, but behind it was the town. We were high up enough to be able to see both clearly, and because the weather was so perfect, the sky was startlingly blue where it met the city in the distance.

He wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his chin on his knees as he looked out over it. Although only minutes ago he'd been practically skipping through the snow, he was subdued now.

Finally able to breathe again, I went over to him, sitting closely next to him so our legs were touching. "It's pretty," I murmured, seeing now why he wanted so badly to come up here.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly. There was a little bit of tension in his voice and when I glanced over, he didn't look as happy as he had a few minutes ago. I wondered if perhaps he was still feeling a little unwell from last weekend and the exertion had over done it a bit.

I nudged him with my shoulder. "You okay?"

Sighing and running his hand through his hair, he nodded. "Yep."

"You're a bad lair," I reminded him, smiling when he glanced over at me.

"It just…reminds me of home," he admitted.

I slid my arm around his waist to pull him up against me. "Is that a good thing?"

After hesitating for too long, he just shrugged. "…I don't know anymore…"

"You miss…?" I didn't know whether I should ask about his family. We were in a different point in our relationship now, but his reaction last time certainly hadn't been a good one.

"…I miss my home town, I guess…Running away felt so good at the time, but it didn't really solve anything and it makes me feel like crap whenever I think about it too long." He forced a laugh, mostly to calm himself, I thought.

I kissed his cheek and he leant his head against my shoulder. He hugged my arm when I reached for his hand, and we were quiet for a while, listening to the sound of the birds. Eventually, he changed the subject, and our normal conversations resumed.

* * *

"Is Alistair gay?" I asked suddenly. Why I was thinking about him, and not the view in front of me or the boy in my arms, I had no idea.

Carlisle laughed, glancing up at me. "Where did that come from?"

I shrugged. "Just curious."

"Well, yeah, I suppose he is." His hesitance to answer the question immediately spiked my interest.

"You 'suppose' he is?" I pressed. I tried to hide my smile as his cheeks flushed a little, and he avoided eye contact with me.

"…Ah…to be honest, I think he'd fuck anything that moved," he replied slowly, a little awkwardly.

Although I briefly tried not to ask, I couldn't help myself. "So, you, then?"

"Me, what?" he asked, stalling answering me.

That in it's self was an answer, and I was laughing, pushing him back into the snow and pinning his hands above his head. "More than flatmates, huh?" I teased.

"No!" He shook his head, a little more red now. "I mean…we never did anything romantic, it just kind of happened…in my defence, I'd had a lot to drink the first time…"

 _Bad move, Cullen._ "The first time?" Seeing how worried he looked, I leant down to kiss him. "I'm only playing, Carlisle."

"You're not mad, right?" he asked carefully.

"I don't care what you did before we started dating," I laughed. "He just seems to…know you well, that's all." I thought about to all the snide comments Alistair had made in the past few months, laughing myself stupid when I realised they were more 'pointers' than mockery. He had Carlisle's reactions catalogued very well, much to my boyfriend's embarrassment and my amusement.

Carlisle cringed at my choice of words, and I kissed his cheek. "…it wasn't a regular occurrence, by the way. Only when he couldn't pick anyone up in town." Seeing my expression, he added: "Him. Not me. I'd be bathing in bleach for the rest of my life if I ever had a one night stand."

"What's Alistair then, if he wasn't a one night stand?"

"Ah…" He was honestly puzzled for a moment, and then pulled a face. "Friend's with benefits?" He obviously didn't like the realisation very much, which made it all the funnier to me. "I don't know, we live together."

I let him go, but my snickering continued for as I contemplated the real reason behind Alistair's humour.

He let me get away with it for a while, before shoving me gently. "Shut up. You're lucky you're a saint."

"More like a nun. They're sex-deprived, aren't they?"

Opening his mouth to make another comment, he closed it again, giggling to himself. The longer I let it slide, the worse he got, until he couldn't stand it anymore. "Aren't nuns sex-deprived by choice, Garrett?"

"Dickhead," I grumbled, biting back a smile. "But to be fair, it wasn't something I wanted until I met you."

"I'm not complaining. Theoretically, that makes me the best you've ever had," he teased, unable to help himself. He was trying to be arrogant, but couldn't quite pull it off.

"It also makes you the worst, by default," I pointed out. This got me pushed onto my back, Carlisle on top of me suddenly.

"Practice makes perfect, right?"

"Not in the snow, it doesn't," I grumbled, already feeling it start to melt and run down the back of my neck.

He laughed, and kissed me sweetly. "Definitely not in the snow."


	14. Chapter 14

"How old is he?"

"Twenty three."

"Where's he from? He has an accent."

"London."

"How old was he when he moved here?"

"Twenty two. I think. I'm not sure; he hasn't been here long."

"Does he have a job?"

"He works at a book store."

"Can he drive?"

"I haven't asked."

"Family?"

I shook my head, exasperated. "Eleazar, for the love of god."

He made an unimpressed noise, and I rolled my eyes in disbelief at him.

" _What_?"

"Are you sure he's…right for you? I mean, he is a little bit younger; perhaps he's flighty-" he started before I cut him off.

"Only by three years, you asshole. Jesus, Carmen is five years younger than you, so what's the issue?" I was overly defensive; I knew he was partly teasing me, but I hated the thought of them thinking anything bad about Carlisle.

Carmen smiled at me, lightly pushing Eleazar. "Carlisle was very sweet when I met him, Garrett."

"I'd love to have him as my son-in-law," mum added, almost in a dream-state at the thought of both her sons being settled with their partners.

"You're getting a little ahead of yourself," I reminded her. "We haven't been together all that long. I just thought you all needed to know who he really is to me."

When I'd sat down at the table with my family an hour ago, and I had not expected the words 'I'm gay' to come out so easily. I hadn't wanted them out. There had been a good minute of silence before anyone had said anything, and then Eleazar had immediately pounced upon Carlisle as the boyfriend. After my brother's interrogation, I was overly relieved that Carlisle wasn't actually with us; I didn't want to subject him Eleazar's torment just yet. With a hidden smirk, I wondered if Alistair and my brother would get along; they both got off on winding people up, so I assumed it to be a possibility.

My father was quiet, not having said a word since I had told them, and I looked at him for his reaction; whatever it was going to be, I wanted it over and done with. His mouth remained shut, and my frustration boiled over.

"Well?" I prompted him.

His eyes flickered to me, and he managed a smile. "I'm proud of you, Garrett."

That pulled me up short, and I choked on my drink instead of swallowing it. "…Really? You're not…upset?"

"Of course not; you're my son. Besides, you're almost twenty-seven, I assumed if you were going to settle down with a girl, you would have at least dated one by this point." He was teasing me, and I was glad; I hadn't expected it to go over so smoothly. "Now, which boy was it, again?" he asked again.

"The only friend of mine you've ever met, father," I grumbled at him, rolling my eyes.

"The blond kid?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Yes. Carlisle." I hoped he'd start using his name, the more times he heard it. I didn't want the awkwardness of dad calling Carlisle something he hated to his face. 'Kid' was a prime example.

He shook his head. "No. I don't like him."

"You liked him well enough before you knew we were dating," I snapped, recalling how well they'd gotten on at Kate's birthday party.

"Your friends aren't of as much importance to me as you partner, Garrett. I have no problem with you being gay, but I don't like your boyfriend." That seemed to close the topic, and I glared at my food as an excuse not to look at him.

/

I was still bitter about it hours later, and within the first five minutes of me being in their flat, both Carlisle and Alistair called me out on it.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Carlisle asked quietly, sitting across from me at the table and reaching over to squeeze my fingers. He'd tried to lock his flatmate out of the conversation, but it was futile.

"Let him sulk, Carlisle," Alistair told him, kicking the leg of his chair as he walked past. The whole table jolted at the motion as Carlisle was knocked into it, grumbling a curse at him.

" _Alistair,_ " he scolded him. There was a sharp edge to his voice, but I could see he wasn't actually mad, biting back a smile.

"Sorry, babe," he teased, running his fingers through his hair and placing a condescending kiss on his cheek as he passed again. Just like the troll wanted, a wave of jealousy flooded my system and I wrinkled my nose.

"Hands off my boy, Alistair," I warned, only half teasing.

"He was my boy first," he countered, grinning once he'd gotten a reaction out of me. "Besides, I made him breakfast this morning; I think I'd make a better house wife than you would. _And_ , he already lives with me. Definitely my boy."

Carlisle's cheeks were already slightly pink, but he was fighting to keep his face from flushing, suddenly fidgety and trying to hide it. I guessed his discomfort came from me knowing about his history with his flatmate, and Alistair's bold unawareness. Still, that in itself had me giggling. "You did not! I made you breakfast, you jerk!" he laughed anyway.

Alistair's smile became rueful. "I did the dishes, though."

He shook his head, glancing at the bench and the pile of dirty plates. "Not even close."

"I _will_ do the dishes?" he tried again, his question turning up at the end.

Carlisle relented, shaking his head and laughing again. "I don't care, Allie. We can do them later, just leave it."

"I've warned you about that pet name," he grumbled, leaning his back against the bench and folding his arms.

"Domestic bliss," Carlisle teased, apparently enjoying the argumentative banter between the two of them. It was amusing to listen to, if nothing else.

"This fucking kid," Alistair stage-whispered to me as he went back down the hallway. "You'd better keep him in line, Garrett. He's a handful."

His smile was shy as he turned back to me, a little apologetic. "You never answered my question…"

"Hmm?" I took his hand again, pleased to have him to myself. There was only so long I could pretend that I wasn't going insane with Alistair touching him like that, even if it was a joke. Carlisle knew it too, judging by the look on his face.

"Are you okay?"

I couldn't help but frown a little; I couldn't exactly tell him that my father didn't like him. "Uh…I ah, I told my family…about us…" I murmured eventually, uncharacteristically nervous about his response.

His anxiety increased, but his face lit up. "Did they take it alright?" His question was quiet.

I nodded. "Yeah, mum was excited and Eleazar is happy he has something else to torment me with…my father was a little…. _unsure_ about everything." That was the best I could do. "I'm glad I did, though; I'm not sure how long we could have pulled off 'just friends' when I can't keep my hands to myself whenever you're too close to me."

"It's a good thing I'm on the other side of the table then, isn't it?" he teased, not seeming phased.

"Well, no, it's not. I'd rather have you over here," I grumbled. It wasn't really a joke; I badly wanted a hug.

Not having to be asked twice, he was suddenly behind me, his arms wrapped around my shoulders while he lent forward to kiss my cheek. "Better?" he murmured quietly.

"Kinda." I rubbed his arm, wanting more contact. Why I was such a needy little bitch all of a sudden, I wasn't sure, but I wanted to get rid of the vulnerable feeling. Apparently the conversation with my family had taken more of a toll than I wanted to admit. I failed at forcing back a yawn, already tired, and it was made worse by Carlisle's warmth seeping into my back.

"Want to go to bed?" he asked softly, kissing me again and seeming to understand my want for intimacy.

I nodded sheepishly, letting him pull me to my feet. I missed the closeness the minute he let me go, even if it was only for a few seconds while we moved. Anxiety was churning away in my stomach, and I battled the feeling, blaming it on being over-tired. "Carlisle…" His name came out without any thought, and I felt my face flush as I realised I didn't actually want his attention centred on me right now.

"Yeah?" He had his back to me still, setting alarms and god knows what else for the morning.

"…You're okay that I told them…right?" I asked after a moment. My voice was a little more unsteady than I would have liked, and I prayed he wouldn't pick up on it.

He did though. He always did. "Of course I am, Garrett. I'm happy." Shuffling closer, wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me tightly. "Are you okay with it, though?"

"I think so…" I mumbled, fitting myself against his side to burying my face in his shoulder. My father's response was eating away at me, worse the more I thought about it. "Just…my dad."

"Is he upset with you?" he asked carefully, repetitively running his fingers through my hair. it was making it hard to concentrate, as comforting as it was.

I shook my head. _He's upset with you._ "He just…I don't know, he's just not happy with the whole situation. And I'm not used to disagreeing with my parents over big things like this and it feels…not nice."

He repressed a smile at my choice of wording, leaning down to kiss me and providing a blissful distraction from everything for a few seconds. The closer I shifted to him, the more he wrapped himself around me, almost a protective barrier between me and the world.

"I think…I think maybe things might settle a bit once they know you. They can't _not_ like you."

"I've met them, remember?" he reminded me gently.

"I mean like meet you as my partner, not my friend," I corrected, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to pull him into me for another kiss. "It's different." Dad had made that very clear. "I want to introduce you to the like that."

Carlisle just nodded, pulling the blankets around us. "You want me to meet you parents?" he clarified again.

"Yeah, if that's okay. I think they'll be more comfortable once they know you properly…"

"I can do that, Garrett," he promised, squeezing me a little tighter.

"Maybe we could have dinner with them?" I was trying to level the playing field; I knew Carlisle would be nervous about it, and if we were eating then we'd both be in the same boat. It would make feel less guilty, if nothing else. Thankfully, he didn't seem to pick up on my tactic, too focused on meeting them again in the first place.

He managed a smile. "Your father doesn't own a gun, right?"


	15. Chapter 15

**My exams have just ended and I'm on holiday now, so it goes without saying I'm wasting all my time writing fanfiction; I've already finished a few chapters ahead for this story so I'm quite happy with myself!**

 **I also have another story which I haven't posted, which was written before this one that is the same pairing. It's a completely different storyline and the characters are different personality wise, but I was a little worried that I might get told off for some minor similarities between the two fics. Any thoughts on me posting the second one? I'm nervous about it.**

* * *

My mother had jumped at the chance to meet my boyfriend again, organising a family dinner within a week. He insisted that it was fine, but Carlisle was obviously nervous; fussing over clothing almost as much as I did. I let him do it, knowing that there was nothing I could do to calm him until we got there and he saw it was alright. As he brushed his teeth for what seemed like the millionth time that hour, I repressed a sigh. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Carlisle had done nothing but be polite since we'd arrived, but my father was glaring daggers at him. Every time he glanced up, they made eye contact and he'd quickly look back at his plate again. "I have to go to the bathroom," he whispered to me after a while, excusing himself and standing up after I gave him directions. I knew he just wanted to be out from under my father's gaze for a few minutes, but I felt bad for him. Dad smirked, and I swallowed a bubble of rage.

"Leave him alone," I grumbled.

"I told you I didn't approve." He matched my tone.

"It doesn't matter whether you 'approve' or not; I'm not a damn child."

The was a few moments of intense silence, and I shoved a forkful of food in my mouth to keep myself quiet. It wasn't too long before he spoke again, though. "It does matter if I have to introduce some brat who's just taking advantage of this family as my bloody son in law, Garrett," he growled. "You do not need a needy little leech attached to you for the rest of your life."

"I love him. And don't you dare talk about him that way," I snapped harshly, praying to every god I could think of that the boy in question wasn't in ear shot.

Carmen and Eleazar looked awkward, and my mother was quiet. Thank god Kate was with a babysitter, at least.

"…I'm not trying to take anything from you family, Sir, but I love your son," Carlisle interjected quietly from the doorway, sounding like a little kid in trouble. _Fuck._

"Shut your filthy mouth, boy. Get out of my house." He waved his hand dismissively, rolling his eyes.

" _Leave him alone."_ My temper flared; he'd more than crossed a line.

"Calm down, Garrett. It's no loss on your behalf; he's not good enough for you. He doesn't deserve you."

"He is the best thing that's ever happened to me," I argued hotly. I couldn't figure out where his hatred was coming from; I'd always gotten along well with my father, so I couldn't understand why he was so upset with the thought of the sweetest boy I'd ever met being with me.

Carlisle was frozen in the doorway, unsure whether he was supposed to sit at the table again now he was seemingly banished. My father shook his head at him, and he took a step back.

"Come and finish your meal, love," my mother murmured to him, forcing a smile. The atmosphere was so thick with tension I could taste it.

I placed my hand on Carlisle's leg as he sat next to me again, tracing circles against his jeans with my thumb.

He was doing a good job at pretending by father's words hadn't been a brutal slap in the face. "I can go, it's alright," he told me quietly, risking a nervous glance at my father.

"This is a family dinner. You shouldn't have been here in the first place," dad scolded him.

"He _is_ family," I protested straight away. "There isn't anything you can do about it, so learn to be nice." I'd never spoken to my father this way before, and it was strange for both of us. I felt utterly ill on Carlisle's behalf.

"He is _not._ I will not have him under this family's name. Ever."

"Then I'll take his last name," I countered, pretty much seeing red. "For god's sake, I'm not asking your damn permission to _marry_ him; we've only been together a few months. I just want you to acknowledge him as my partner and be nice." We glared at each other, the silence last a few minutes before Eleazar cleared his throat.

"The food is great, mum," he told her, forcing a smile. His attempt to move the conversation on was fairly successful, and small talk resumed around the table once again.

Carlisle didn't eat anymore, keeping his head down and pushing what was left on his plate around with his fork. I didn't blame him for feeling a little sick, and I had half a mind just to leave and get him out of here. But that would mean my father had won.

* * *

We didn't stay for desert, and Carmen and Eleazar were polite as they said goodbye. Mum followed us to the door, and Carlisle mumbled a thankyou as I kissed her goodbye.

"Thank you for coming, love," she murmured, briefly hugging him. "Don't you worry about him, alright? He'll come around eventually."

He nodded, withdrawn and more than shy now. I ran my hand down his back, thanking my mother again as I led him outside.

"I can't believe he acted like that," I grumbled as we drove home, my blood still boiling. I was holding his hand, but it wasn't until he used his free one to loosen my grip on his fingers a little that I realised how tightly I was squeezing him. I immediately relaxed it, guilty and repressing a sigh. "Am I taking you home?" I asked instead, frustrated and gritting my teeth. The words came out harsher than I meant them.

"…yeah…I guess so…" he mumbled, still not looking at me and fidgeting uncomfortably.

"I didn't mean it like that, Carlisle. You know I love having you stay with me," I reminded him, hearing what I assumed to be hurt in his voice as he took my question the wrong way.

"I know…just…I want to go home…please…" Any conversation I tried to start after that, he quickly shut down, letting go of my hand and stopping all interaction between us. "I would do it, you know…" he murmured after a long silence.

"Do what?" I asked, confused.

"Take your surname name, if you wanted that. If we get to that point."

Not knowing if he was teasing or not, I laughed and glanced over at him. "I don't expect you to do that."

He shrugged. "Mine's not worth the paper it's written on."

* * *

I barely resisted engaging the child-locks in his door when we pulled up outside of his apartment block and he tried to leave after only mumbling a goodbye. Assuming he wouldn't react well to being trapped, I chose a gentler option and walked him to the door instead.

He turned to face me as he unlocked the front door. "Do you want to come in, or…?"

"Do you want me to?" I asked him, running my fingers through his hair to get it off his face.

He looked down immediately and I already knew the answer. "…I just want to go to bed, Garrett…"

"That's okay," I assured him, using my thumb to tilt his chin up again so I could kiss him.

Appearing a few meters behind Carlisle, Alistair slowly and deliberately shook his head at me in a 'what the fuck did you do?' gesture.

"Don't, Allie," Carlisle told him quietly. "I love you," he mumbled as I hugged him, kissing his forehead as we said goodbye. After promising to talk again tomorrow, he closed the door and I wandered back down to my car.

* * *

I was terrified that my father had fucked things up with him for good. I hated the idea of Carlisle being upset in general, even more so if it was because of me. After a few days of no contact and him ignoring my texts, I gave up, resorting to calling his asshole flatmate. I didn't have his number saved in my phone, but I knew he'd text me once or twice so I scrolled back through the records of unknown numbers, eventually finding one I assumed to be his.

"What'd you do?" he snapped upon answering, forever in a bad mood with me.

"Can you get Carlisle to answer his phone, please?" I snapped back.

"Not if you're taking that kind of attitude with him."

"For fucks sake- please, Alistair?"

"What if he doesn't want to talk to you?" He was enjoying himself way too much, and I wanted to bang my head against a wall.

"Forget it," I grumbled.

* * *

The day seemed to drag on and on as I waited for lunch time to come around. Eventually it did, and I picked up a coffee, hoping the hot beverage might warm my MIA boyfriend up a little. For old time's sake, I grabbed a paper as I entered the bookshop, setting both it and the cup on the counter in front of him. "Carlisle, we need to talk."

"Can it be after work? Because I really can't handle that right now, and I still have to be here six more hours," he pleaded softly.

I grabbed his hand, shaking my head. "Are you alright? I know what my dad said was horrible, but it doesn't change how I feel about you. I love you."

"I love you too, but…I can't tear your family apart, Garrett. I've done it to mine, but I'd never do that to yours." He wasn't looking at me as he spoke, overly focused on the paper work in front of him.

I leant across the counter to kiss him. "He'll get over it. And until then, I'll keep him well away from you."

He laughed, but I got the sense it would only to relieve a bit of anxiety. "I don't want to hurt your family."

Pushing aside any work place rules, I walked around the counter to get to him, pulling him into a tight hug. "You won't. You're not." I kissed him gently, a weight lifting off my shoulders as he kissed back. "Come over tonight? I miss you."

He nodded, wrapping his arms around my neck.


	16. Chapter 16

**I'm done with the weird dark shit for a while after this chapter, I promise. But this one is a bit fucked up.**

… **Trigger warning?**

I hated myself for the position I'd put my boyfriend in just to get some piece of mind. I knew dad had hurt him, but I didn't realise it had cut him so deeply until he was sitting in front of me at the table. He wouldn't eat much, and didn't speak to me unless I directly asked him a question that he couldn't answer by shaking his head or nodding. It scared me a little bit; this wasn't like him at all. It was like all of his usual warmth had been drained, leaving him a little too cold for comfort.

"Hey." I reached across the table to squeeze his fingers. He was even cold to touch. "Is something wrong? I mean apart from my dad acting like a total wanker? You're really not yourself."

He sighed softly, rubbing his hands over his face. "I'm fine, Garrett. it's just been a long week, I guess."

"Would a drink make it better?" There wasn't much else I could offer him; I sucked at touchy-feely shit, so he was just going to have to talk if he wanted to.

Laughing a little, he nodded, offering a somewhat forced smile as I got up and grabbed a couple of beers out of the fridge. His was open and halfway down his throat before I'd even cracked mine.

An hour later, and we'd convinced ourselves that being Friday night and all, doing a couple of shots wouldn't hurt. My head was fuzzy and I was pleasantly buzzed. Carlisle had consumed at the same rate I had, except he was doing it on an empty stomach and was a fair bit lighter than me, meaning he was well on the way to becoming completely trashed.

"Alright, you, I know you're having a rough few days, but drinking yourself into oblivion isn't going to help," I warned him, taking his half-full glass away and setting it behind me on the bench.

He wasn't overly concerned about the whereabouts of his drink, leaning forward against the table and sighing quietly. "You know, it's not even about your dad. I mean, sure it hurts that he really doesn't like me, but my father is the one I'm fucked up about. I moved half way around the word to get away from him, but the minute someone yells at me, I may as well be back in his damn house again. It's pathetic, really." His words weren't quite slurred yet, but I doubted he was thinking about what was coming out of his mouth.

"It's not alright that he treated you that way," I reminded him, ignoring the latter part of his statement.

He laughed, but the sound was dark. It didn't suit him at all, and it made my nerves prickle. "The way he treated me was nothing. When I upset my father, he used to beat the shit out of me and lock me in the basement for a few days to 'repent my sins' or whatever."

"Carlisle…" This wasn't what I meant when I said he would have to be the one to talk to me.

"I was fucking stupid enough to tell him I'm gay, and I didn't see sunlight for three weeks. He made eat cat food because 'I'm too worthless to deserve a proper meal'. It tasted like shit. Either that or starve. And I didn't deserve medical care; he used to cut me and break bones just to remind me of it. Fucking sick piece of shit. I hope he fucking rots."

"Carlisle, stop. We shouldn't be talking about this while you're in this state."

"What's the difference? I can't pretend forever; you may as well know how much of a fuck up I am before we get too far into our relationship. I'm only wasting your time now," he grumbled, snatching up his glass and forcing another few mouthfuls down until it was empty.

"Stop it, now," I pleaded, not wanting to hear any more. I didn't feel like it was consensual; he was too drunk to think about what he was telling me.

"Why would someone like you want someone like me? It doesn't make any sense. I just wanted to pretend you could love me for a little while; fuck, I'm such a fucking idiot…"

"Carlisle, I love you a lot. But let's go to bed before you do something you regret." It was already too late for that; he wouldn't be telling me this normally. Still, I pulled him to his feet and down the hallway, pushing him into bed and crawling in beside him. "I love you, now go to sleep."

.

* * *

The first thing I noticed upon waking up was that Carlisle had curled his body around mine, his arms locked around my waist as he settled against my side.

"How is the hangover?" he asked softly as I rubbed my eyes, kissing my neck.

"Not the best," I grumbled, catching sight of the glass of water and aspirin on my bedside table; my boy was one step ahead of me, as usual. "Where's yours? How are you even functioning?"

He just smiled and shook his head while I sat up and downed the pills with a mouthful of water. Rubbing my leg, he untangled himself from me and got up. "I'll make us breakfast; you'll feel better when you've got something in your stomach."

I just agreed; he was right, and I was hungry. I got dressed once he was gone, unable to shake the dirty feeling of knowing something I shouldn't. Coupled with nausea of my hangover, I really didn't feel good.

Carlisle wasn't acknowledging what had happened either, which made it all the worse. I wasn't even sure if he was aware of what had happened last night.

I held my breath as I sat at the table and he set a plate in front of me, starting to do the dishes. Slowing chewing a bite, I contemplated what I should do. "…Hey, Carlisle?"

"Yeah?" He didn't turn to face me, caught up in his task.

"…Do you remember what we talked about last night?"

"Judging by your state, obviously not hangover tips?" he teased, forever far too upbeat for the hour of the morning.

"Not quite…You told me about your dad," I told him slowly.

His hands froze and a few seconds passed before he answered me. "…What about him?"

I shoved another spoonful into my mouth to stall replying. "About what he did to you."

The colour drained from his face and he accidently dropped the sponge on the floor. He didn't reach to pick it up, holding onto the bench with both hands like he might fall if he let it go. "…How much…?"

"How much is there?" As I watched him, I could see him withdrawing and starting to shut down. "Come here, Carlisle."

He hesitantly followed my instructions, coming to stand in front of me. "…Garrett…" he pleaded, his voice shaking.

I tugged him closer using the beltloops of his jeans, hugging him as much as I could while he was standing and I was sitting. "I love you."

He was quickly becoming upset, starting to hyperventilate and on the brink of tears. "You can't," he told me quickly.

"I love you, Carlisle. What happened to you was wrong; don't ever believe anything he told you."

Blinking back tears wasn't enough, and he quickly tried to wipe them away as they overflowed. He didn't say anything, unable to speak without crying.

Giving up on my meal, I stood up, wrapping my arms around him. "It's okay," I assured him, squeezing him as he buried his face in my shoulder. He was shaking so badly I wasn't sure how he was still standing. Worried, I pulled him over to the couch to get him to sit down. "You could take him to court; he's done more than enough."

"I tried-" he had to stop and take a deep breath before starting again. "I tried to get away from him, but the judge said there wasn't any evidence of what had happened and he had a lawyer but I couldn't afford one and he told them I was lying and the jury believed him and they closed the case without giving me a restraining order and he tried to- to…so I left the country but I still haven't gotten away from him and- and-" His words were barely decipherable from each other, and tumbled out without him wanting them to.

"Where we your brothers? Did he do this to them too?" I was sure my heart was breaking; he'd never held on to me as tightly as he was right now.

"…they held me down…"

"I'm so sorry, Carlisle. I love you so much." It sickened me to even think about someone hurting him; he was too little and sweet.

He still looked like he was waiting for me to kick him out, not really looking at me and too scared to meet my eye.

"I'll be back in a minute." Kissing his forehead, I hurried down the hallway to pick up a blanket, wrapping it around him when I came back, desperate to make him feel safe again. In the short time I had been gone, he'd fallen apart even further, hugging his legs and resting his head on his knees. "Does Alistair know about this?" I asked quietly, sliding my arms around him again.

"…no…" He shook his head, almost apologetic.

We stayed like that for the next few hours, Carlisle eventually calming down enough to feel okay about watching TV, content with just sitting close to me. Much closer than normal. By the time lunch time came around, we still hadn't moved, but I was acutely aware of the fact that my boyfriend hadn't eaten today, despite him making breakfast.

"Are you hungry? You didn't have breakfast?"

He shook his head at my question, and I guessed that he was feeling a little sick after our conversation this morning.

I kissed his cheek, shifting him a little so we were sitting more comfortably.

"…I'm sorry…"

"You don't need to be sorry, Carlisle. I love you." I hated that he kept apologising; I wasn't even sure what he was apologising for in the first place. "I love you so much." How many times was I going to have to repeat that before he believed me again?

"…love you too…" He cuddled into me further, finally letting go of himself and sliding his arms around my waist.

There wasn't much I could do for him other than just sit with him, and I felt terrible for bringing all of this up again. It was my fault any of this had come to the surface; I shouldn't have taken him back to my father. It was never going to go well.

Maybe it would have been better if I hadn't said anything and pretended that he'd never told me anything. Still, I knew I wouldn't have been able to leave it alone.

.

* * *

As it started to get dark outside, Carlisle's nerves picked up again, until he was almost in tears. He came up behind me as I was standing in the kitchen, nervously picking at his clothing. "…Garrett…"

"Hmm?" I turned to face him, leaning against the bench.

"…Can I stay again tonight…? Please…?" he pleaded.

"Yes, Carlisle, of course you can. Are you alright?"

He nodded. "…just…want you…"

Tugging him toward me, I wrapped my arms around him, leaning down to kiss him. "You can stay as long as you need to."


	17. Chapter 17

**I felt bad about the last chapter, so I thought I'd better post a lighter, normal one at the same time.**

Carlisle was a little more cheerful the next morning, teasing as normal as he waited for me to be ready to get out of bed. Eventually, he got sick of waiting around, going to the kitchen to make coffee for both of us. When he came back, he sat on top of the blankets, still next to me but focused on his phone now. He didn't have to be at work until ten, and I was awake enough by then to appreciate how cute he was with wet hair after showering. Before he left, I made him promise that he'd come and stay again tonight.

I missed him as soon as he was gone, and staying in bed wasn't as appealing when he wasn't there. I begrudgingly got up and started the shower. Despite the warm water and the caffeine, I couldn't shake the knot in my stomach; Carlisle still wasn't entirely normal, and I was scared work might be a little much. I didn't want him to fall apart in front of a group of strangers. And if he was that scared with me last night, I didn't even want to think about what might happen if he freaked out in place he didn't feel safe.

As soon as he came in the door from work, he dropped his keys on the table and rushed over to hug me, his arms around my neck. I felt him relax a little as I ran my hand down his back.

"Are you alright?" I asked him quietly, squeezing him against me.

Thankfully, he smiled, though it was a little shy. "Yeah…. just happy to be home."

I felt a rush of warmth as he referred to my place as 'home', unable to fight back a grin.

.

* * *

After four more nights of this, I felt like it had never been different. The routine we had unintentionally created together each morning felt like it had been happening for years; I'd forgotten what it was like _not_ to have Carlisle with me every night and each morning. We took turns at cooking dinner and doing the dishes, and he waited for me to wake up to kiss me goodbye before he left in the morning. I both started later and finished work earlier than Carlisle, so I was always home to hug him when he got back. It was pure bliss.

Alistair, however, wasn't happy. Although Carlisle was still paying rent and his share of the bills, he didn't like being home alone all the time. It was understandable, and I knew Carlisle felt a little guilty about it, starting to what to go home again.

In a pathetic, last ditch attempt to get him to stay a few more nights, I suggested inviting the man in question over for dinner. Thinking I was joking at first, Carlisle laughed and teased me that it should be a double date. His face lit up when he realised I was serious about it, though, and he didn't hesitate in asking his flatmate.

I was second-guessing my decision when Alistair was at my table. We were surrounded by an awkward silence when Carlisle was in the other room, neither of us really wanting to look at each other out of fear of making eye contact.

"He wants us to get along, doesn't he?" he asked eventually.

"Yep," I answered shortly.

"Hopeless romantic," he sighed, rolling his eyes. He was smiling a little, though, trying not to but unable to avoid it. "He wants me to like you."

I laughed. "You don't have to. You only have to pretend when he's looking."

"You're not that terrible," he grumbled.

"You're not that terrible, either," I told him.

Carlisle came back in then, a hopeful smile on his face when he found that we weren't squabbling.

Alistair cut him off before he had time to comment on it. "It's pretty quiet at home, without you there."

"Miss me?" he teased.

"That's a bit of a strong term," he smirked. "I get to sleep until eight every morning without anybody crashing about in the kitchen."

I didn't think 'crash' really described anything Carlisle was capable of, but the image made me laugh all the same. Carlisle let his comment slide, telling him to shut up and eat instead.

.

* * *

I couldn't deny that I didn't feel at least a _little_ jealous when Alistair hugged Carlisle goodbye. My boyfriend had to really stretch to wrap his arms around his neck, standing on his toes. Alistair squeezed his waist, resting his chin on the top of his head for a few seconds before letting him go. It was oddly reminiscent of how we hugged normally, and Alistair and I were very similar heights; I hoped we looked as adorable as that when I hugged him.

Carlisle closed the door after wishing him goodnight, his face flushing a little as Alistair bluntly accused him of only wanting to spend the night for sex. "What?" he asked as he turned to face me.

"Nothing, just…you guys are cute together. It sucks," I teased, leaning down to kiss him gently. I had avoided doing it in front of Alistair; I didn't really want to rub it in his face that I could kiss the boy I liked while he couldn't.

He laughed and knotted his fingers behind my neck, simultaneously pulling himself up and me down to get closer to me. "We're cuter," he teased back.

"I should hope so," I grumbled light-heartedly.

.

* * *

"You realise we've almost been together six months now?' The question seemed a little random. It was eleven at night, and he should have been asleep seeming as he had to be up at six. The only reason I knew he was awake was that his breathing was uneven, and occasionally he'd shuffle a little closer to me.

"Is this the part where we discuss our wedding and whether we want kids?" I teased, kissing his forehead as he lay with his head on my chest.

"I'm twenty-three. Both of those topics are terrifying."

I kissed him again. "Do you want to have kids one day, Carlisle?"

"Neither of us can carry them," he reminded me. "It's kind of a fatal flaw."

I pushed him a little, laughing.

"Do you?" The question was a little quieter, almost shy.

I thought for a moment. "Sort of. Maybe. I don't know. I love my niece to bits, and she just seemed to complete my brother's family so well and she's wonderful.; you can't have a bad day with that kid around."

He looked a little uncomfortable and I had to laugh at his expression. "Can we meet half way and get a kitten?"

"A puppy, and we have a deal." It was entirely unrealistic; we both lived in multi-storied buildings with absolutely no yards. It was no place for an animal, let alone a child, and I hadn't really known Carlisle all that long, in the scheme of things, but it was a nice day-dream to entertain for a while.

"Puppy works." His hand was low enough on my hip that it was really testing my self-control. Even more so when his fingers brushed against my thigh as he shifted against me. It was entirely innocent on his behalf, but I was biting my lip to keep myself quiet.

Pushing my luck, I rolled us over so that I was on top of him, bringing our lips together. Not expecting it, it took a few seconds for him to respond, running his hands up my body to hold my waist.

"What are you doing?" he mumbled, hugging me loosely as I continued to kiss him. Having been almost asleep a few seconds ago, the change of pace had thrown him a little bit.

"You want me to stop?" I teased, my hands on his waist as I slid my fingers under his t-shirt.

"…If I'm sleepy at work tomorrow, I get to tell everyone why," he threatened, fighting a smile.

I laughed and took that as consent.


	18. Chapter 18

**I've proof read everything, but I'm sure there's mistakes I've missed so please forgive me! Thanks to those of you who have reviewed/favourited/followed/ect, your support is wonderful ^-^**

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I swear to god it was sunny when we left. There hadn't been a damn cloud in sight. Suddenly though, the skies opened. It was absolutely pissing down. We were both drenched, and my clothes were sticking to me. It felt fucking awful.

Carlisle seemed to be enjoying himself though, running ahead of me through the puddles but keeping hold of my hand. The water made his clothing tight against his body, and while I was pretending that mine wasn't doing the same, he was gorgeous.

Reaching his apartment building, he pulled me inside, both of us panting. The floor quickly became slippery from the water off running off us, and we were slipping and sliding as we started up the wooden floors. I was out of breath, but it had Carlisle giggling, despite being so cold he struggled to get his key in the lock.

He slammed the door behind us, pushing me up against it and wrapping his arms around my neck. His lips met mine and he tangled his fingers in my hair, closing any space between us.

I grabbed him and pulled him into me, starting to untuck his clothing. It was harder while it was wet, and the task had both of us laughing a little, even more so when he slipped and I caught him so he wouldn't fall. Getting his jacket off him, I dropped it on the bench. He started to unbutton my shirt, pausing briefly so I could strip him of his. His lips were against my neck as I unzipped his jeans, his fingers digging into my shoulders.

"No fucking in the kitchen." Alistair's voice scared the shit out of both of us, and Carlisle's face immediately flushed as we looked at each other.

After spending so long alone in my apartment, I hadn't even considered the possibility of his flatmate being home. Luckily for me, I wasn't the one half naked.

"Ah…sorry, Allie," Carlisle told him awkwardly, already starting to pull me away.

"Stop calling me that," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. The smirk he offered me was somewhat congratulatory, and I had to force back a smug smile.

Carlisle remember to both close and lock the bathroom door this time, avoiding disturbing Alistair any more.

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* * *

Lying in bed, hours later, I heard the front door open and close, two sets of footsteps entering the house. Whoever it was struggled to be quiet, tripping and stumbling on their way down the hallway. My heart was instantly racing.

I sat up quickly, confused, but Carlisle placed his hand on my leg to stop me getting up.

"It's okay, Garrett…he's just got 'company'," he explained sleepily, pulling me back down again and immediately cuddling back into my side. The semi-hushed high voice of a woman filtered through the walls, followed by Alistair's lower-pitched laugh.

Content, I was almost asleep again when the door slammed again. Down the hallway, a light flicked on, closely followed by someone gagging.

Carlisle sighed quietly and got to his feet. "Stay here," he told me.

I stayed and waited for what seemed like forever, listening as lights turned on and off, taps ran and people crashed about. Eventually, I couldn't stand it anymore, getting up in search of my boyfriend.

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* * *

Carlisle was kneeling on the bathroom floor next to Alistair while he sobbed uncontrollably. Even from here, it was obvious he was very, _very_ drunk, clinging to my boyfriend like some kind of lifeline.

"…sleep with me?" he sniffed, slurring and trying to wipe his face on his sleeve. "I wanna cuddle…"

"We can't do that anymore, Allie, you know that," Carlisle reminded him stiffly, rubbing his back as the other boy cried. "Get in bed and lie down; you'll feel better."

"Please, Carlisle? I want you in my bed," he whined, almost pathetically. His frown deepened when he refused to let their fingers laced together, pulling his hands back.

Carlisle shook his head, pushing his hair off his face. "Lie down, Alistair."

"Stay with me…I need a hug," he continued to slur.

He sighed and sat next to him, wrapping his arms around him and rubbing his back. "Not tonight." He was between a rock and a hard place, really; the drunkard wasn't about to give up on it.

"But…" More tears and more begging.

"Carlisle." I waited until he looked up at me, biting back a sharp reprimand for Alistair. "Stay with him; it's fine." I wasn't at all happy about it, but it was going to be easier for both of us in the long run, and Carlisle looked exhausted. The sooner the alcoholic was in bed, the better.

He offered a tired smile, slowly getting to his feet. "Alright then, come on, Allie."

Alistair had to be dragged to his feet, still stumbling and babbling nonsense. "Garrett can come too-"

"Nope, not even close. Get in bed," Carlisle told him, laughing.

"But-"

"Alistair, it's three in the morning. I have to go to work at six. Shut up and lie down so we can both get some sleep, or I'm going back to bed with Garrett," he threatened.

It was enough to get him to settle down, and I retreated back to bed so I didn't have to witness his hands on _my_ Carlisle. I had never tended to be jealous before I met those two, but Alistair knew how to push my buttons; with the fragility of my relationship with my boyfriend after my father's bullying, it wouldn't take much for me to bite his head off. But I had to be good. For Carlisle's sake.

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* * *

Carlisle was gone already by the time I woke up the next morning, and I was a little bitter that he hadn't kissed me goodbye. The bed had seemed extra empty, and I was sure the room was darker. I stayed lying on my back, staring at the spider-like cracks in the ceiling while I controlled my temper enough to go and face his flatmate. Maybe it was a good thing he had left me to sleep; I probably would have killed him had he woken me up.

Alistair was sitting at the table, his arms folded against the wood and his head resting on top of them. "Garrett," he murmured.

"What?" I hoped he knew better than to fuck with me before I had my caffeine hit; I had stayed in his flat long enough for him to learn. I was going to have to apologise to both of them for acting like a stroppy child later on – I knew I could be shitty to be around when I was sleep deprived.

He looked up at me with bloodshot eyes. A smile played at the corners of his mouth, but couldn't quite stick. "…I'm sorry I stole your boy last night."

I almost choked; that wasn't what I had expected to come from his mouth. "He could have said 'no'," I reminded him sourly. "He wouldn't have agreed if he hadn't wanted to." Maybe that was what I was so caught up on; he could have refused. Still, this was all stupid; I had told him it was fine after he'd tried to fight Alistair, so I had no reason to be upset by it now. It was petty on my behalf.

"I, uh, I kinda forced him into it; he's too sweet to deny me that…it's what we used to do before he was, um, before he was with you…I had a bit too much to drink and I just…" He fell quiet, studying to table top. "I wanted him. Just for one night."

"A ' _bit_ ' too much, huh?" I grumbled, setting a mug on the bench.

"…I miss him, Garrett. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that he's got you; I can't offer him that stability. But I do miss him…"

I wished I didn't have to hear him; I didn't want to have to feel bad for Alistair. "Do you have a crush, Allie?" I teased, unable to help myself.

Apparently the name was even worse out of my mouth, because he cringed. His face flushed anyway, and he was suddenly a little guilty. "…I love him," he admitted shyly.

Giving up and deflated by his admission, I sat in front of him. There wasn't any reason for me to be rude now, not when he was trying. "I know."

He took this as an open door to a confessional. "Look, the only reason I even drank last night was to try and flush him out of my system. I thought that if I drank enough that I couldn't think, and found a cheap fuck for the night, then maybe seeing him with you wouldn't hurt." He was slowly working himself up, and I wouldn't have been surprised if he still had a bit of alcohol in his system. "I know he wants us to get along, but I can't like you while you're groping the boy I love in my damn kitchen," he grumbled, ending his rant abruptly.

"No fucking in the kitchen," I concluded, taking a sip of my drink.

"No kissing in my kitchen," he corrected, narrowing his eyes.

"I can't promise that." Okay, so I wasn't finished being an utter jackass.

"Keep you hands to yourself," he tried again.

"He started it," I pointed out, smug.

"I fucking know that, Garrett! But I can't yell at him for loving you, so I have to take all this pent-up shit on you," he snapped at me, wincing when his voice was too loud for his own ears.

I sat there, ready to take it, but he appeared to be finished, for the time being. Sighing, I relented. "Get dressed, and I'll buy you lunch."

.

* * *

We were both uncomfortable. Silent and awkward, we stood in line in the café, waiting for someone to serve us. I paid for Alistair's food, and he looked at me questioningly when I didn't buy anything for myself.

"I, ah, I'm not hungry," I lied, fighting to keep my face from flushing. I handed the woman the money, and she gave him his order.

"Thanks," he smiled, genuinely for once. "You wanna go visit Cullen? I'm sure he'll be pleased to see at least one of us."

I nodded. "He didn't say goodbye to me this morning," I grumbled to him, still vaguely annoyed. It wasn't so much that he had forgotten, rather just my own withdrawal from not seeing him.

"He woke up late," he chuckled. "Not surprising, considering the night he had."

The walk to the bookshop was a little more relaxed, and the tension between us had eased a little. It was almost enjoyable.

Alistair burst through the door far more dramatically than I had expected. "Carlisle Cullen," he announced loudly, laughing when his flatmate dropped the pencil he was holding. "I heard you didn't kiss your boyfriend goodbye." He tutted disapprovingly.

"Shh, don't be so loud," Carlisle shushed him, his face reddening. "Alistair, for god's sake."

"You aren't the one with the hangover," he teased, practically skipping across the shop and making himself at home.

Carlisle quickly snatched the book out of his hands, shaking his head. "What are you doing?" he hissed at him, clearly unimpressed.

Alistair mockingly kissed his forehead. "Garrett was babysitting me, and I thought we should stop by." He was unashamedly grinning.

"Well, shut up, because you're going to get me in trouble." Still, he couldn't resist glancing at me, an unintentional smile on his face as we made eye contact.

He slapped him on the back – to roughly in my opinion – and walked back toward me again. "Told you he'd be pleased to see one of us." Jingling his keys, he nudged me toward the counter. The door slammed shut behind him and he made off down the road, leaving us.

I offered Carlisle a guilty smile, but he just looked relieved. Wrapping my arms around him once he was close enough, I hugged him tightly. He leant up to kiss me before gently wriggling away again, reiterating that he would quite like to keep his job. I frowned upon seeing how tired he was; I couldn't blame him for being late this morning.

"…We're staying at your place tonight, right?" he asked, almost pleading to not have to spend the next night with his flatmate.

"I'm not objecting to that." Using his t-shirt, I pulled him into another kiss.


	19. Chapter 19

"Eleazar, take a deep breath and start again, because you sound like a fucking lunatic right now." it was too early for this – before lunch and all – and I lay back again, folding one arm over my face to block the light out. I didn't have work today, so I'd not seen any reason to get out of bed after Carlisle left. My brother had rung me in a panic ten minutes ago, but he was so worked up I couldn't understand what he was trying to tell me. Especially when I was still half asleep.

I'd even made Carlisle late this morning, hampering him so much that he managed to miss both having a coffee and showering. It was worth it at the time, to have him in bed with me a little longer, but I wondered if he was pissed at me. He didn't seem so when he left, but I'd murder anyone who got between me and caffeine. Hopefully he loved me enough not to decapitate me.

Amazingly, Eleazar actually attempted what I told him. "Where are you right now?"

"At home." In bed.

"Can you go and get Kate? The school just called me a-and apparently she fell and they've sent her to A&E but I can't get there for another hour and Carmen's on the other side of town, a-and I don't want her to be alone-"

"Alright, alright. I'm going now, okay? Calm down. It'll take me fifteen minutes, most," I assured him, rolling out of bed to find some pants. I wedged the phone between my shoulder and my ear so I could have my hands free and still talk to my panicking brother. "Are you alright? You sound like you're going to have a heart attack."

"What kind of father does this make me? My daughter is in pain and I can't even be there for her?" he demanded, obviously on the brink of tears. "A teacher had to take her because I couldn't do it…"

"A loving father with a job to support his family. It's fine, I'm leaving now." My words were serious, but I still couldn't resist rolling my eyes.

"Call me when you get there?" he asked anxiously.

"Of course, Eleazar."

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000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

.

The kid was fine. Giggling at inflated gloves and sitting on her teacher's knee. She squealed when she saw me, wriggling onto the floor and running toward me. "Uncle Garrett!"

I knelt down to catch her. "What'd you do to yourself, Miss?" Lifting her into my arms, the white plaster encasing her arm brushed against me. I swallowed thickly, only just repressing a groan; Eleazar was going to lose. his. shit.

"I broked my arm," she told me, unconcerned and just happy to see me.

"We need to call your daddy before he goes mad," I told her, sitting her on the bed and dialling him on my phone, handing it to her. I turned to the teacher as she babbled down the line at him. "Thanks for staying with her. My brother is a wreck."

"She is a sweet kid; Eleazar did tell me you were coming." She chuckled to herself, saying goodbye to me and Kate as she left.

After assuring Eleazar over and over again that she was fine and spending another hour waiting to be discharged, I was allowed to take her home. We stopped at a takeaway shop on the way, partly because I didn't have anything child-friendly for lunch, and partly because she'd had such a miserable day that the least the poor kid could have was a damn ice-cream.

I didn't really want the sticky treat in my car, so we sat in the diner while she finished her meal. How she managed to talk so much with her mouth full of chicken nuggets, I'd never be sure. She should put it on her resume. It was a relief though; not only was she unconcerned with her injury, it sounded like she was enjoying school, from what she told me.

I took her back to my apartment, switched on Disney channel and sat her in front of the TV, hoping she might stay there until one of her parents arrived. Usually, I had some activity planned to keep her busy when I babysat, but with the short notice boredom was inevitable. She was supposed to be taking it easy with her arm as well, and I hoped I wasn't in charge when the pain relief wore off; the kid had never been good with taking medicine.

As one PM rolled around, I contemplate calling Carlisle. He should have been on break by now, but I wasn't sure. With a frown, I realised that maybe that might not be a great idea while Kate was so close; our conversations were exactly 'kid friendly' sometimes. I didn't need to be the one responsible for broadening her vocabulary.

Her father rushed in not much later. He immediately had his arms around her, checking her over for injuries and fussing and flustering himself further. "I owe you one, Garrett." He didn't; he listened to my whiney ass all the time, and I told him so.

"You're in a bit of a state, El," I teased.

"She scared me," he told me meekly. His tone made me laugh, and I pulled him into a one-armed hug.

"You sounded like you were about to have a breakdown, I'm surprised you made it here without killing someone."

He rolled his eyes at me. "Was she good for you?"

"Perfect, as always," I assured him. "Although, she's been watching 'Frozen' all afternoon, so I'm sure you're going to be a rendition of 'Let it go' all the way home."

"Great," he grumbled, hesitating before letting out a sigh. "How's Carlisle holding up, after dad disembowelled him the other weekend?"

I frowned, not able to tell him much. "He's okay. A little shaken up, maybe, but I think he's over it." Whether that was true or not, I wasn't sure; he'd just buried everything for all I knew. He wouldn't let me bring the subject back up, though.

He shifted his weight, readjusting Kate to his other hip to hold her more comfortably. "I take back whatever I said about him not being right for you. I guess I just freaked out that he's my little brother's first boyfriend."

I was grinning as soon as the word 'boyfriend' came out of his mouth; Eleazar's support meant a lot to me. We did everything together growing up, and I wasn't sure I could deal with him _and_ my father hating Carlisle.

"Carmen loves him to bits. I was sure she was going to bite dad's head off," he chuckled.

"I can't believe he was such a fucking asshole. It would have been bad enough behind his back, but doing that in front of the whole family was just cruel," I grumbled, momentarily forgetting that I probably shouldn't talk like that in front of Kate.

He just nodded, unwilling to join the war between my father and I. An awkward minute passed, and then we said our goodbyes.

The apartment was suddenly quiet as I locked the door again, and I wasn't sure if I liked it. Solitude wasn't something I sort after anymore, and it quickly led to boredom. Boredom led to vacuuming for the first time in _far_ too long, and vacuuming led to full on spring cleaning just as an excuse to move around. It occupied my hands, at least.

But I still missed Carlisle. My phone was burning a hole in my pocket, a dead weight. I gave up and rang him, but it went straight to answer phone, souring my mood further. I didn't even know if he was staying tonight – I hoped so, or I was going to go batshit crazy.

Was this what being too clingy was? Probably. I was fucking doomed. If it was possible to love someone too much, I was halfway there. I decided I'd better lay off a bit; I couldn't fucking smother him all day, every day. It would get really weird, really quickly.

Before I even had time to finish that thought, my phone vibrated with an incoming text.

" _Miss you :("_

He was just as doomed as I was.


	20. Chapter 20

**Twenty chapters!**

 **Thanks to all of you who have left such kind reviews, it makes me very happy!**

 **This chapter turned out to be a lot longer than I anticipated, but never mind.**

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"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" The question seemed to come from nowhere.

I laughed at his suggestion, rolling my eyes although he was out of my line of sight. "Carlisle, you practically live here."

"So, we're passed cute movie dates, then?" he teased.

The only movie we'd gone to see together was the disastrous unofficial date/not-date with Alistair, and the thought of it made me wrinkle my nose. Maybe redoing it wouldn't be so bad. Besides, I never did get to hold hands with a cute boy in a cinema during my teenaged years, so I may as well make up for it now.

"Is there something in particular you wanted to see?" I turned to face him, finding him focused on his phone, smiling slightly.

"How do you feel about horrors?"

.

.

Fine. I'd felt fine about them, until they were stretched across a massive screen. The hair on the back of my neck was raised, and I had to make a conscious effort to keep the pressure on Carlisle's hand even; he didn't need me breaking his fingers, and I didn't need him knowing I was scared. Twenty-six, and down-right petrified by some artificial paranormal shit which my boyfriend was loving every second of, apparently.

The boy liked fairy-tales, for god's sake, so why on earth we were watching this demonic crap I had no idea. I would be sleeping with the lights on tonight though. I'd expected something softer and a little more 'PG'; I'd expected Carlisle to be as easily scared as I was. Obviously not though, he didn't even flinch.

I wished I'd brought popcorn or a snack of some sort, so at least then I'd have a tangible thing to feel anxious about. Instead, I was worried about pissing my pants as an adult because of a film. Carlisle touched my leg without warning, and I just about hit the roof, my heart racing. I just hoped I looked collected; I wouldn't be living this down otherwise.

"What the fuck was that?" I grumbled as we walked back into the main part of the cinema building.

"Only the best movie of our lifetime." He was still excited, buzzing. He glanced over at me when I didn't reply. "You were scared," he teased.

"You didn't warn me it was going to be that bad," I whined at him, realising he'd baited me in to going.

"I'm sorry the scary movie was scary?" Laughing, he hugged me, squeezing me tightly and kissing my neck.

"You have to stay tonight to make up for it." I slid my arms around his waisted and leant my cheek on the top of my head.

"What a harsh verdict," he chuckled. "Come." Grabbing my hand, he pulled me over to the register again. My confusion over what he was doing ended when he handed me another movie ticket.

"Not again!" I groaned. "It's not going to be _less_ terrifying the second time-"

He cut me off with a kiss. "Shut up, you idiot. Come and have your cute movie, since the last one scared you so terribly." Holding my hand and leading me forward, he pulled me toward another theatre.

"Carlisle," I laughed. "You didn't have to do that. And you're still staying tonight, as punishment."

Rolling his eyes, he held the door for me, almost awkwardly polite. "Deal."

.

.

I was vaguely aware that the movie was something romantic and sappy, but I couldn't really focus on it. I'd watched the first ten minutes of it, but one kiss led to another…and another…and then we were the kids everyone hated in the theatre. Carlisle shushed me whenever I said something too loudly, apparently far more aware of our surroundings than I was, but all I was worried about was getting him closer to me and not breaking his ribs on the arm rest in the process.

"People on TV make this look really easy," I whispered to him, only able to see him smile in the light flashes of the film.

"Maybe we just need more practice," he whispered back, leaning a little closer to bring our lips together again. Tangling his fingers in my hair, he kissed his way down my jaw until his lips were against my neck.

"Practice is perfect," I murmured, leaning my head back against the seat and shutting my eyes; God, he felt good.

.

.

We walked out of the theatre holding hands and giggling. I couldn't remember anything about the movie, other than how soft his lips were and how lucky I was to have him. Carlisle stayed the night like he had promised, and was cuddlier with me in bed than usual; maybe he was a little scared after all.

I had thought he'd fallen asleep, lying with his back against my stomach and my arms around his waist. It gave me a little bit of a fright when he did speak.

"…love you, Garrett…" he mumbled.

"Love you too," I whispered back, kissing the base of his neck.

He rolled over in my arms to face me, bringing our lips together before resting his cheek against my collarbone, his hand against my chest. Still wanting more contact, he slid his knees between mine, shuffling closer.

"My brother likes you," I murmured, still wanting to soothe any raw edges my family had caused. "I baby-sat Kate yesterday, and he wanted to know if you're okay." I wanted to know too, although I didn't want to nag him.

"I'm okay as long as I've got you."

.

.

I was looking after Kate for the next day as well, while Eleazar and Carmen were out of town, sparing them both the cost and worry of hiring a competent baby sitter, especially while she was weighed down with a cast. Her father had gone over and over with me the times that she was due pain medication, and activities that might aggravate the break, so I was more than happy to push him out of my house so I didn't have to listen to him anymore.

Before he'd even made it to my front door, my phone rang, my boss's number visible on the screen. I groaned and answered it.

"Parker! I know it's your day off, but I need you in here today!" Phil barked, loud enough that my brother heard it too. His eyes widened as he calculated the logistics of finding someone else to watch her, or wrangling a day off himself.

"Sorry, sir, I really cant," I told him as firmly as I could muster while anxiety gnawed away in the pit of my stomach. "I'm watching my niece today."

"Well, get someone else to do it," he grumbled. "We're short staffed, and I can't run a business like this."

"She's already with me; it's too shorter notice," I argued; I wasn't sure what was worse, my boss being pissed at me, or Eleazar losing his mind.

"If you want your job, you'll get your ass in here," he snapped, hanging up on me.

I groaned, facing Eleazar again. He was panicking, mumbling nonsense about getting one of his work mates to cover for him. "Carlisle is off today too…maybe he could watch her?" My feelings on the suggestion were mixed; I knew he had never really looked after children before and I didn't want to disrupt whatever he had planned for today, but there weren't many other options and I trusted him.

Eleazar paled a little at the suggestion. "Does he know how to look after a child? He's only just finished being one himself."

"He's twenty-three and more mature than you are," I grumbled at him. "I think he would be okay with her."

"'You _think_ he'd be _okay_?'"

"I know it's not ideal, El, but what else do you to want me to do about it?"

He emitted an unimpressed noise. "…I want to talk to him again first, before I leave my daughter with him."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Eleazar. Fine. If he says yes, that is." I left my brother in the kitchen and called Carlisle from my room, not wanting Eleazar listening in on the conversation; I couldn't imagine my boyfriend being in favour of meeting a family member like this on short notice. I wasn't even convinced he'd say yes to Kate; he wasn't the biggest fan of kids.

.

.

It took fifteen minutes of carful pleading to get Carlisle to agree to it. He'd brought every flaw he had in regards to children up immediately, but no matter what he scrambled for, nothing was that terrible. In the end, it was the promise of sex the following night that made him give in, as though he thought I might be withholding otherwise. Idiot.

Eleazar interrogated him over the phone, and then gave him the same detailed debrief I'd gotten before _finally_ rushing off to work. He was about to do my head in. His daughter, however, was oblivious to the drama, already going about her business.

"How is school, Katie?" I asked her as she teetered around my apartment. After sitting in a classroom all week, she didn't have it in her to sit in front of the TV, so I just let her do what she wanted. The bag of toys that Carmen had sent helped a little, but I had no idea how Carlisle was going to manage with her. I had faith that he could keep her safe, but I wasn't sure either of them would be in a good mood when I returned from work. Kate was a good kid. Usually. But boredom could turn her into a little troll, just like any young child.

"They're mean to me because of my arm," she whined, almost tearfully. "Cause it's ugly…"

I picked her up, hugging her tightly. "Don't listen to them," I soothed. It was hitting a little too close to my own primary school experience. "They're just bullies."

"…I hate them…"

How the fuck was I supposed to leave her with my boyfriend when he had no fucking clue how to look after a _happy_ child? This was going to be a disaster. I spent the next while calming her and trying to cheer her up enough to behave for him, but all too soon I was kissing both of them goodbye and heading to work.

Carlisle already looked stressed when I let him in, and was late. I was glad he didn't have to meet Eleazar in person; he was a little bit of a mess, having just rolled out of bed.

I laughed and kissed his forehead. "You look like shit."

He glanced at the screen of his phone. "I've been awake for half an hour, was on the phone with you for half of it, and spent the other half buying coffee because I'm hung over," he told me guilty, taking a sip from the cup he was holding.

"At least you managed to get dressed," I teased, rolling my eyes.

"…I literally slept in this."

Laughing again, I shook my head at him. "I have to go, but if you really get stuck, call me. Good luck." I hugged him quickly, waving goodbye to Kate; it was a bloody good thing he'd been to her birthday. She had some idea who he was, liking his accent because it was different from what she normally heard.

"Good luck," he repeated quietly under his breath, sighing.

.

.

Neither of them heard me come in, and I'd never been more pleased. The structure in my living room could only be described as a goddamn castle; it was far more grand than a simple blanket fort. Kate heard me as I closed the door, bursting out from under the covers holding a torch.

"Carlisle teached me to read!" she shrieked happily, running to me through the darkened room.

I didn't bother correcting her grammar, picking her up into a hug instead. "I leave you alone with her for a few hours, and you turn her into a bookworm, huh?" I laughed as my boyfriend emerged as well.

He shrugged, almost guilty. "Yeah, but she's great at it."

"And look! Not ugly anymore!" She was trying to show me her cast, but I couldn't see it while the room was dark and my eyes were adjusting to the change in lighting from outside.

I reached back and flicked on the lights, making both my niece and Carlisle groan at the abrupt contrast. This time when she held it out to me, I could see what she meant; the white plaster had been coloured - painted over. With a surprised chuckle, I realised it was the tea party scene from Alice in Wonderland. I glanced up at Carlisle, unable to help smiling. "You did this?"

"Ah…we were painting, and she told me that the other kids wouldn't sign her cast, and she really like that scene in the book, so…"

"And you're an artist and never told me?" I accused, laughing more out of amazement than anything. I knew what art sets Carmen had sent with her, and quite frankly, kid's paints were shit. The brushes were worse.

"I wouldn't go that far…I just draw sometimes…" He was a little awkward under my praise, his face flushing a little.

"You and your bloody fairy-tales," I teased.

"It isn't a fairy-tale," he shot back quickly, almost defensively.

I just laughed, kissing the top of Kate's head. "What are we having for dinner, Miss?" There was no way I was cooking dinner now, and I certainly didn't expect Carlisle to do it. As expected, the exuberant cry of "pizza!" echoed around the room. Eleazar didn't approve of a great deal of junk food, so whenever she was in my care I let her eat what she wanted; consuming artery-clogging shit was a childhood rite, in my opinion.

We ate in the fort. Not because the five-year-old demanded it. Because my twenty-three-year-old partner wanted to. Kate charged under the blankets, occupying one corner with her food in front of her. I watched Carlisle do something very similar, folding his legs underneath himself and fitting neatly in the space. Building forts was obviously a lot more fun if you were under six foot. I sat awkwardly in the doorway, uncomfortable and having to slouch so my head didn't touch the roof. Still, there was something a little comforting about it; the air was warm and the closed in walls felt safe.

.

.

I'd mostly hidden the pizza boxes by the time someone knocked on my door. The room still smelt of dinner, and I waited for Eleazar's reprimand about feeding his child fast food. Thankfully, it was Carmen. Instead of telling me off, she gave me a warm hug and an apology for being late. She wasn't; that woman was always perfectly on time.

"Mummy!" Bursting out of the fort, her daughter rushed to her, hugging her legs.

"You're all smiles today, aren't you?" she laughed, raising her eyebrows at me. She'd warned me beforehand that Kate had been in a miserable mood since her injury, and neither of us had blamed her, but now she her normal giggly self.

"Carlisle," I told her, assuming that she wouldn't need any further explanation; you couldn't _not_ smile around him. Except, she didn't know him, so she wouldn't know that either.

Because my father was violently against him.

Sure enough, Carmen's smile faded just a little. "She behaved for him, right?"

"Look at my arm!" she thrust it in her mother's face. "And we built a hut!" Her chatter continued over top of everything else, and Carmen pretended to be attentive in the way that only mothers could, continuing her conversation with me behind her daughter. "Mummy, I can read!"

"They literally did her homework together," I laughed. "I'm not sure what they did for eight hours or how he managed to stop her destructing my apartment, but she was sulking when I left and laughing when I came back."

"The perfect babysitter," she chuckled. Running her thumb over the bright colours on her cast, she slowly shook her head. "She told you two about the kids at school, then? How did you get her to sit still long enough to do this? It's perfect?"

I shrugged. "Carlisle," I repeated. Somehow, he'd managed to become invisible, ghosting my sister-in-law. I didn't blame him for feeling nervous after his last run-in with my family. "Come in, Carmen. You don't have to stand out in the corridor." Stepping back, I led her inside, suddenly realising all of my chairs were part of the infrastructure in my living room.

Now that she was inside, Carlisle had to show himself, slowly emerging from the hallway to stand beside me. He nervously reached for my hand and I squeezed his fingers.

"Thank you, love. I haven't seen her this happy for ages." She hugged him as well, much to his obvious surprise. "I think you'll be her new favourite person for a while."

He remained quiet as we collected Kate's stuff, shoving it back into the bag she had brought with her. The kid was hanging off him, clinging to him whenever he tried to move. In the end, he crouched down to her and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He kept her entertained while I spoke to Carmen, and Kate's attention was captured until her mother called her back. Everything he said to her, she parroted back in a bad English accent, having us all laughing under our breath.

Carmen hugged me once more before she left. "Marry that boy," she whispered before she let me go.


	21. Chapter 21

I felt like absolute shit. My head hurt, I could barely keep my eyes open and my boss was breathing down my neck. To make it worse, I wouldn't get to see Carlisle tonight; he was at some stupid dinner party with some mutual friends between him and Alistair, and I quiet literally didn't have the guts to go with him. I was on the brink of throwing a tantrum; I just wanted to go home and bury myself under as many blankets as I could.

I left my boss's office biting my lip to hold back tears, storming back to my desk and picking up my phone.

' _I know you're busy, but can I stay with you tonight? I miss you."_

The five minutes he took to reply had me hiding in the bathroom just to avoid everyone.

' _Of course. Are you okay?'_

I sighed in relief; maybe all this wouldn't feel so awful once I had my arms around him. _'Having a really shitty day.'_

' _Love you. I'll fix it tonight.'_

Was that supposed to be a dirty text? I didn't know, although judging by who had sent it, probably not. Either way, I wasn't complaining.

.

* * *

.

By lunch time, I felt like death was inevitable. I wanted my bed, and I wanted my boyfriend, but neither thing I could have for another six or so hours. During my break, I just folded my arms against my desk, resting my head on top of them and squeezing my eyes shut against the suddenly too harsh lighting.

I only realised I'd drifted off to sleep when someone placed their hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently, and I prepared to be disembowelled for not doing my job.

"Hey, I brought you coffee. You okay?" Carlisle kissed my cheek as I looked up to see who it was, rubbing my back when I immediately hugged him.

I nodded slowly, calmer now I had him with me. "Yeah, I'm fine, I guess. Just stressed." Taking a sip of the warm drink, I was thankful for the heat, but it made my throat hurt which led to me coughing. Unfortunately, I didn't think it was the liquid that make swallowing so painful.

Sitting in the seat next to me, effectively kidnapping it from one of my co-workers, he ran his fingers through my hair to get it off my face. "You sure? You don't look good."

"Thanks for bring that to my attention," I teasing, coughing again.

"Garrett," he sighed, holding the back of his hand against my forehead. It felt nice, and I immediately leant against him as it soothed my head ache.

"I hate my boss…" I just wanted to go home and feel sorry for myself now. And take him with me, of course.

"I know, but are you sick? I think you might have a fever?"

"I kind of don't feel that well," I admitted. "My head hurts…"

Kissing the side of my face, he smiled worriedly. "Have you eaten today?"

"Carlisle, I cant, you know-"

"Shh, I haven't forgotten," he soothed, gently squeezing my thigh. "I just need to know if I'm making dinner for someone who's had more than a couple of cups of coffee or not tonight."

I shook my head, guilty. "You're going out with Alistair, remember."

"Not if you're feeling awful, I'm not," he argued.

"Carlisle, he'll kill me if you stay home because of me…Just go have fun with your friends, and come to bed later?" I didn't want to be the asshole who ruined their night. "Please?"

He sighed, wrapping his arms around me, nodding anyway. Digging something out of his pocket, he handed me a key. "You go straight to bed, okay?" Another gentle kiss. "Dinner finishes at eight thirty, so I'll be home then. And call me if you need me?"

I nodded, already hating myself for not admitting defeat and keeping him with me. Glancing at the clock, I repressed a sigh and stood up. "And you're going to have to leave before my boss yells at you too." I held his hand as we walked to the door, ignoring the interested glances of my co-workers. This was the first time they'd ever had a glimpse of my life outside of work. "I'll see you later."

"Okay, Garrett. I love you." He apparently didn't have the same qualms as I did about kissing me while I was sick, hugging me and kissing me goodbye before stepping into the elevator.

I turned around to find a couple of the women I worked with grinning at me, and felt my face grow hot.

"Who's the cute boy?" one of the asked, obviously curious. "Boyfriend?"

"Ah…yeah, Carlisle," I told them carefully, a little more confident as I recognised open jealousy on their faces. "I'm gay, by the way." I don't know why I felt the need to them that, but it made them chuckle anyway.

"You should bring him by more often."

"Maybe I want to keep him all to myself," I teased, grinning now.

"Can see why," she grumbled. "The boy is gorgeous."

" _My_ boy," I clarified, rubbing it in a little.

"Your boy," she repeated, unamused.

.

* * *

.

By the time I made it back to his flat, I felt like I'd been hit by a bus. My whole body ached, my head throbbed and my throat burnt. Using the key he'd given me, I unlocked the front door and stumbled into the kitchen. On the table, in his beautifully scrawled handwriting, was a note explaining that there was soup in the fridge, pain killers and water beside the bed, and, of course, that he loved me. It made me smile, if nothing else.

I wasn't sure I could face eating, and I was so tired I just wanted to get in bed. I shed as much clothing as I could be bothered, kicked off my shoes and fell between the sheets, passing out seconds later.

.

* * *

.

Cool fingers brushed my hair off my face, and I leant against his hand. "…Carlisle…" I mumbled in realisation, too sleepy to look at him.

"Yeah," he murmured, kissing my cheek. "Did you manage to eat?"

"…No…I don't feel good…"

"Okay." Holding his hand against my forehead, he sighed quietly. "Can you take something for your fever, though? You're really warm." His voice was soft and comforting, and I could have slept again if he'd kept his palm there any longer.

Once I had nodded, I heard him grab the pills off the bedside table, handing them to me and guiding my hand to my mouth when I fumbled to do it myself. The smooth edge of a glass touched my lips, and the cold liquid felt good as it rushed down my throat. "…what time is it?"

"Just before seven. Let's get some of this off you, okay? You won't sleep well." Starting to unbutton my shirt, he managed to get me out of it with no help on my behalf, and immediately the cold air bit at my skin.

"…Carlisle…" I whined, wrapping my arms around myself.

"I know, not for long," he promised, kissing the top of my head.

I didn't want to open my eyes; the light stung even with them shut. I wriggled out of my pants when Carlisle instructed me to, sighing in relief when he wrapped me in the blankets again. "…Stay…?" I asked him.

Another kiss. "Let me have a shower first, and then I'll come straight to bed," he told me.

.

It was the longest ten minutes of my life. I listened to the water running, and then shut off, but somewhere between that and him coming to me, I fell asleep again.

I woke up as he slid under the blankets and immediately wrapped my arms around him. He still smelled like the soap that he used, and fresh laundry, and that in it's self was comforting to me. "…You came home early…" I mumbled in realisation.

"Yeah, I was worried about you," he murmured, squeezing me tightly for a second before rubbing my arm. "Get some sleep. You look exhausted."

He certainly didn't have to ask twice.

.

* * *

.

My head was throbbing when I woke up, and I pulled a pillow over my ears to block out the sound, groaning. Carlisle leant over to kiss my neck, rubbing my side. "I'll tell them to shut up," he assured me quietly, already starting to crawl out of bed. "They all got a little too drunk and stayed over last night."

"Your friends?" I questioned warily.

"Yeah. They're all good people, but you don't have to meet them today, if you're not feeling up to it."

"…maybe in an hour or so? When I can function like a human being?" I was way to sleepy to meet anybody new just yet.

Except an hour rolled into three hours. And then it was lunch time. My head was killing me; even sitting with Carlisle in his room with the door shut, the voices of the boys in the longue were still too loud. Eventually, I couldn't handle it anymore, even if leaving meant losing Carlisle for a while. I just needed to get out.

"Hey, um, I think I might go home," I told him quietly, wincing as I sat up.

"They're too noisy," he sighed, rubbing my leg.

I nodded guiltily. "…I need to sleep this off…"

"Can I come with you, or…?" He was shy about it, which was odd, but it was sweet all the same.

Breathing a sigh of relief that I could keep him after all, I quickly agreed. I stood up too fast, and the room spun. Carlisle's hands were immediately on my waist, steadying me.

I had hoped to get to the front door without them noticing me, but I was called out the minute I stepped out of the hallway.

"So, this is the infamous Garrett! We've heard so much about you." The guy that spoke seemed out of place compared to Carlisle and Alistair; broad shouldered, shortly cut dark hair and a somewhat arrogant smirk. Out of the three strangers in the room, he was the biggest, and definitely the loudest. I recognised his voice as the one I could hear clearly when I was in bed earlier. They all looked roughly my age.

Alistair was laughing, trying to hide it by taking a sip of his coffee, but given away by his grin as Carlisle grumbled for the boy to shut up.

"All good things, I hope," I replied, trying not to cough in the process.

"This is Emmett," my boyfriend told me. "Ignore everything he says; he's a class A dickhead."

"You love me," he protested, clearly pleased with the scene he was making.

Carlisle ignored him, gesturing to the other two. "Edward and Jasper." He was really nervous, fidgeting and eventually giving up and holding my hand. It earned a wolf-whistle from Emmett, and a laugh from Alistair and Jasper as Carlisle's face reddened and he looked away. Edward, who I judged to be a little more reserved, offered him a reassuring smile, greeting me politely.

"You should have come to dinner, Gar. Your boy is more fun when he's drunk," Emmett commented, unable to let it slide.

"Ah, not unless you want my plague, no." Talking irritated my throat, and I ended up coughing again, almost on cue to prove my point. I also hoped the nickname wouldn't stick; I did not need to be called 'Gar' for the next year.

"You okay? Do you want a drink?" Carlisle immediately asked me, his arm around my waist.

"Yeah, I'll get it," I assured him, kissing his forehead. It wasn't a good move, judging by the whoop it caused. I was starting to get a little dizzy, wanting to sit down but needing to go somewhere quiet.

"Oh, you two are definitely fucking," he continued, earning an elbow in the ribs from Edward as Carlisle shifted uncomfortably.

"Not in the kitchen, though," I clarified, stumbling through the door and out of sight. Although the joke went over the heads of three of them, it got a hearty laugh out of Alistair who had given up trying to be discreet about his amusement. Choking back coughs, I quickly grabbed a glass and filled it with water, hoping the liquid might sooth the scratchy feeling in my throat.

Someone came in behind me, and I assumed it to be my boyfriend. When I turned, however, Alistair was leaning against the bench. "You're going home, are you?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, and I'm stealing your flatmate again, sorry."

He just shrugged, grinning a little. "That doesn't surprise me; feeding him to the wolves doesn't make him want to stay."

"…Are they nice to him? He seemed worried?"

There was a pause where he considered his answer. "They get on well with him, but he's nervous you won't like them; consider this you meeting his parents. You're going to have a hard time winning them over though, unless you're going to drink with them."

Either way, they were a whole lot nicer to me than my parents were to Carlisle. I was overly relieved that I didn't have to go through that; I could handle meeting a bunch of rowdy boys. "I'll give them their drink when I don't feel like I'm about to die," I promised.

His smile fell. "Do you want me to drive you home, then? I don't want you passing out behind the wheel." _Alistair doing something nice? What the fuck?_

"Um…actually that would be great," I admitted, a little awkward. "I can, ah, get you a coffee or something on the way, if you want?"

He shook his head. "Na, the soon you get back in bed the better, by the looks of it…Besides, you make Carlisle happy. That's enough," he told me quietly, almost in a whisper to avoid the others hearing. He spoke again before I could comment on what he'd just said. "But we'd better rescue him before the boys interrogate him into oblivion."


	22. Chapter 22

**I'm amazed that anyone is still here after twenty two chapters, and** **CentauRita you never fail to make my day (:**

Carlisle's relief to be away from the three of them was almost laughable, although he was immediately on edge to find out Alistair was driving. His complete paranoia toward having his flatmate too close to me would have made me suspicious, had he been anyone else, but I trusted Carlisle to tell me the truth. I assumed he just didn't want Alistair to spring something on me when neither of us were ready; it was the same reason I was keeping him distanced from Eleazar.

"Are you two bribing each other? Did you lose a bet, Alistair? Is this a kidnapping?" he guessed, rattling off a list of possibilities. It was hard to know whether he was kidding.

"No. I'm driving because I've never seen you with a driver's license, and because I didn't want Garrett to sneeze and throw you both over a cliff."

He laughed at that. "Are you sure you don't have a little _crush_ on Gar, Allie?"

"Shut up," both Alistair and I snapped at the same time.

"That name is not going to be a thing, ever," I clarified sternly. Carlisle was giggling, pleased with himself and obviously not about to heed my warning. "Your friends seem nice, anyway," I continued, trying to distract him.

"They're terrible, and you know it," he grumbled, rolling his eyes but still smiling.

"Well, Edward seemed nice, then. I can live without Emmett."

Alistair grinned. "Carlisle thought Edward was 'nice' too, when he first moved over here from London."

Despite my pounding head ache, the 'kill me now' expression on my boyfriend's face made an explanation irresistible. "Oh?"

"Hmm." Apparently that was all I was getting out of Carlisle.

Alistair, however, wasn't going to fail me when it came to gossip. "I got to listen to his whiney school-girl crush drama for months-"

"I said he was cute _one time_ ," Carlisle interrupted. "You're such a shit-stirrer."

I just laughed as his flatmate repeated his version of the story to me in a stage-whisper, clearly overheard by Carlisle who was pretending _not_ to hear. "You two didn't work out, then?" I asked, both curious and hoping that his answer might lead to further trouble. Alistair and I made a good team when it came to tormenting Carlisle, I thought.

"Because he's straight," he grumbled under his breath.

"Or so he says," Alistair continued. "He obviously has a soft spot for you."

"He'd engaged to a _girl_ , you asshole."

"Oh, I remember, Carlisle. You spent about a week sulking after you found out."

He rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut, knowing that whatever he said wasn't going to make anything better.

Alistair glanced over at me and we made eye contact, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing as my boyfriend's face reddened slightly. It was only so long before his flatmate couldn't resist another jab. "You didn't smile as much for him as you do for Garrett, though."

That appeared to sit worse than any of the other teasing before. "Shut the actual fuck up." His cheeks flushed and he avoided eye contact with both of us, suddenly shy as he buried his face in his hands. He looked cute like that though, and judging by Alistair's expression, he thought so too.

Alistair dropped us off and declined my invitation to come in – thank god; I was going to cry if I had to stay up any longer. I was on autopilot as we reached my apartment, downing as many painkillers as I was allowed and hurrying straight to bed. Blankets weren't really a priority of mine, but Carlisle pulled them out from underneath me anyway, covering me up again and getting on the bed with me. He stayed sitting up, leaning against the headboard and playing with his phone, and I cuddled closer, resting my head against his legs just as an excuse to be touching him. The weight of his free hand on my shoulder was enough to leave me contented.

.

.

It was dark outside the next time I opened my eyes. "What's the time?" I mumbled to Carlisle, smothering a yawn which threatened to transform into a cough.

"Six," he told me softly, aware of my hate of loud noises.

Groaning, I rubbed my face. "Do you want to watch TV or something?" I assumed he was board shitless by now.

"Can you tolerate the sound?" he asked, rubbing the top of my arm.

"I think so, just don't make me move." I reached over to the bedside table and snatched up the remote, passing it to him. "…Or expect me to stay awake…" Shutting my eyes, I was quickly falling asleep again.

.

.

Although my throat felt raw and I had the worst headache I'd had in a long time, I didn't feel so awful lying with my head in Carlisle's lap. He ran his fingers through my hair, his other hand resting on my shoulder as we sat on the bed together. I wasn't even sure what the movie was called anymore; he was making me sleepy and I couldn't concentrate. It was after eight now, and I was trying to stay awake long enough to provide him with a bit of company.

"Carlisle…stay tonight?" I asked, trying to stop my speech slurring.

"Of course," he promised, squeezing my shoulder. "Do you want me to get us some dinner?"

I groaned, but agreed. "…kay…"

He leant down to kiss my forehead. "I'll be back soon then."

I wrinkled my nose; it was late and he was cute to be alone in the dark in this neighbourhood. There was no way I wanted him walking around outside at this time of night. And I wanted him with me. "…Wait…just order something that can be delivered…?"

He made me choose, seeming as I was the one lacking an appetite at the moment. I had rolled my eyes at him; he picked at meals like a fucking bird. I may not be able to eat in front of people, but his definition was dinner would barely be considered a snack in my family. It was an issue for another day, though.

I'd chosen Indian, hoping that a decent curry might flush whatever bug this was out of my system. It didn't go down well with my throat, but the warmth and spice was nice. I was glad I'd taken the day off work; I would have died if I hadn't, and my boss wouldn't have been sympathetic in the removal of my corpse come five o'clock. "You took the day off for me," I realised suddenly, shaking my head at Carlisle.

"I, ah, swapped it to work on Sunday instead," he admitted. "I didn't want you to have to do anything while you weren't feeling well."

"But I still get you all day tomorrow?" I clarified.

"I'm all yours, Gar."

"You're lucky you're a good cuddler, or I'd be throwing you out that door," I grumbled, rolling my eyes.

.

.

I'd been drifting in and out of consciousness for over an hour, but hadn't made any solid plans to actually get out of bed yet. It was still relatively early for a Saturday – nine AM – in my opinion, at least. I was surprised Carlisle hadn't tried to get me up yet, but he was still asleep, for all intents and purposes. When I'd shifted slightly a little while back, he'd quickly curled up against my side again, his head against my shoulder and his arms around my waist. I was barely aware enough to realise that with the way we were lying together, the circulation in my arm was being cut off and my hand was filling with pins and needles. It didn't bother me enough to move it though; I knew if I did, I'd wake Carlisle up. He may have been asleep, but the tiniest movement woke him up at the best of times, let alone at a time when he was usually up and out of bed. Sometimes it was like sleeping with a puppy; how he ever actually got any rest with me moving about all the time was a mystery to me.

The sun was streaming in through a crack in the curtain, a beam of bright light across part of the bed. I wondered how he wasn't overheating, under too many blankets, lying in the sun _and_ against my side. Thankfully, the beam avoided me, or I'd be sweating. The way the light fell on him make his hair a little more golden than usual, and I couldn't resist using my free hand to brush it back off his face.

The small touch was enough to render him vaguely conscious again, and he offered me a sleepy smile, kissing the base of my neck. "Hey…"

"Hey." I kissed his forehead, partly pleased to have him awake but kind of missing being able to watch him sleep for a while.

He started to sit up to get his phone, but quickly abandoned the task upon realising just how tangled in the blankets he was. "…what's the time?"

"Just after nine." I kissed him again, unable to help myself, and he moved to free my arm.

"…mm…you're making me lazy…" he teased, kissing my collarbone and working his way up until our lips met.

I laughed quietly, rolling onto my back and pulling him on top of me. It wasn't difficult, even when he wasn't fully cooperating; he was littler than me. "Maybe, but you love it," I teased back.

"…I do..." The next kiss against my neck was a little more of a bite, and I squeezed him in response, making him laugh.

"Don't you leave a mark where I can't hide it; I can't imagine my boss being too appreciative." I ran my hands up his sides, sliding my fingers under his shirt.

"…You're the one wearing too many clothes…" he accused, his lips against the same spot again, but very gentle this time. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Am I?" I teased, tugging his shirt to draw attention to it. "And yeah, I feel good, actually."

He nodded, melting into me and returning the situation back into something more innocent; I couldn't undress him while was like this. "…I'm cold…" he offered in explanation, a little guilty.

I laughed, unable to help it. "You're _always_ cold."

He put his hand on my leg suddenly, his fingers against my inner thigh, and I jerked back in surprise. It wasn't a lie; his hands were goddamn freezing. He laughed at my reaction and kissed my cheek.

"I'm sure we could find a way to quickly warm you up again." I was sure he was purposefully winding me up now, his hand resting on my hip. Asshole. Bring our lips together again, I tried to do the same to him.

"A hot shower sounds nice, actually." He sat up quickly, rolling over to get out of bed.

"Carlisle!" I grabbed his hand, pulling him back toward me and wrapping my arms around his waist so he was trapped. He had his back to me now, laughing as I squeezed him a little tighter. I kissed his shoulder, and then the base of his neck, his jaw, shifting him back to reach his lips. "So, sex before breakfast is off the cards, then?"

He turned him my arms, facing me again, and wrapped his arms around my neck, kissing me back with far more vigour than I was expecting. "Are you kidding? Of course it isn't. As long as you're up to it, of course."

.

.

An hour later, and I was watching my boy cook us breakfast, all the while pretending that I _wasn't_ staring. It wasn't my fault he was exceptionally adorable with wet hair, or that I was such a gentleman that I didn't want my boyfriend to get cold again and had given him a jersey that was far too large on his little frame.

He eventually caught me out, rolling his eyes. "Next time you cook, I'm getting my revenge, Garrett," he threatened, swallowing a smile.

"Be my guest," I teased, not bothering to discreet anymore. "What do you want to do today, anyway?"

"Couldn't we just stay here, and, ah, 'cuddle'?" he teased. "I mean, I think you should still have forced bed rest. Excluding the rest part. Just in bed, really."

"You just don't want to go out in the rain," I accused.

"Well, do you want to go out there?" he countered, grinning now he knew he had me in a box. "You'll make your cold worse, Gar."

Oh, for fucks sake. "There's no chance of you dropping that name, is there?"

"Not in a million years."

"Great."

"Love you."

"Jerk."

"You want me to make it up to you?"

"You'd better."

Setting our plates down, he grinned at me across the table. "How's your stamina?"

I shoved a forkful of food into my mouth. "We'll find out after breakfast."


	23. Chapter 23

Carlisle was in a bad mood, and had been all morning. I thought he'd been pissed off if with me at first, but I couldn't think of anything that I'd done that could have upset him. Or, maybe he was human and was just having a bad day. It was unusual though; it was always me that did all the snapping and grumbling, and him that put up with it, trying to sooth it with hugs and kisses.

"What's wrong?" I asked eventually, unable to stand it any longer; he was driving me nuts.

"Nothing," he mumbled, not looking up from his phone. Typical. It was the kind of 'nothing' that you were given when you should have already known what was wrong, and your query had only put you deeper in the shit.

"You're not usually this miserable." My attempt of teasing didn't work. He didn't even glace up at me. "Carlisle, for god's sake. Just tell me; we're not children."

There was a long pause as he contemplated it. "…It'll be Christmas soon," he told me eventually. I assumed he was trying to distract me, but he reacted badly to even saying the word, folding his arms against the table and resting his head on them.

"So, you're going to be shitty for the next two months, then?" I grumbled back, not understanding the problem. It was the beginning of fucking November. "Everyone loves the holiday season."

He shrugged. "I don't."

"Don't be the Grinch."

Keeping his mouth shut, he just rolled his eyes, dropping the subject. I let him stew over it for a while; he was going back to his flat this afternoon anyway, so Alistair would be the one dealing with his shitty mood.

The kiss he gave me as he slid out of the car was still sweet, and he was obviously put out by having to go home, which was a comfort to me as I meant I wasn't the offender. The two of them had a property inspection, which meant they were cleaning their already immaculately-kept flat from top to bottom. I had offered to help, but thankfully, they'd turned me down; there was no way in hell I wanted to scrub, so I was more than happy to leave. Maybe Carlisle was just anxious about that. Maybe I shouldn't have been so abrupt with him.

I decided to use my free time wisely, seeming as I'd be working long hours this week, and headed for the grocery store. It would do me good to eat something that wasn't takeaways, but having Carlisle around me all the time took away any immediate self-consciousness that I felt toward what I was eating. I was sure I hadn't touched a vegetable in at least a week. And that _really_ wasn't good for my figure. How my boyfriend stayed perpetually slim, I wasn't sure.

.

.

The lines for the check outs were long. _This_ was why we ordered takeaways. I focused on my phone, tuning out my surroundings to fight off boredom. It wasn't until I thought I heard someone say my name, that my head snapped up.

"Hey, Garrett, right? Carlisle's boyfriend?"

I spun around to face the guy behind me. He was vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. "Yeah," I answered slowly. "And you are…"

He laughed nervously. "I'm Edward, one of the assholes who harassed you the other day on your way out of the flat," he explained, scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh! Shit, I remember." My facial recognition skills were apparently worse than I thought.

"You look more alive this time," he teased lightly. "Are you feeling better? I'll assume your nurse was good to you."

"Ah, yeah," I mumbled, fighting to keep from blushing.

He ignored it, and thankfully left the subject. "This is my wife, Bella." He wrapped his arm around a girl as she came over to put something in their trolley, pulling her into him.

I greeted her warmly, as she did to me, but all the while I was trying to imagine Carlisle in that position instead of her. It was weird and made my head hurt; it didn't look like something that would work. Or maybe that was my wishful thinking.

"We're not actually married yet," she laughed, shaking her head. "Edward just wants the ceremony to be over with."

"Don't say it like that," he grumbled, kissing her cheek. It was some assurance to me that they seemed very much in love. It wasn't that I didn't trust Carlisle one hundred percent, because I really did, but it was nice to know that the option wasn't there at all. Laughing a little, he smiled at me. "I asked Carlisle to be my best man, but he said no."

"What?" I frowned; despite previously having a crush on the boy, I couldn't imagine why he'd refuse. It was sort of rude, really; not like Carlisle at all. "I'll talk to him-"

"He's shy, Garrett. He doesn't like being in front of people all that much, and that's okay. It'll be nice to have him there all the same, even if it's not right next to me."

"I'm sure Alistair will look nice in a suit, anyway," Bella laughed.

"I can't imagine him cleaned up," I chuckled. "Or Carlisle for that matter; I've never seen him wear anything other than jeans."

"You won't be disappointed, trust me," Edward grinned. Perhaps he wasn't as straight as Carlisle had assumed.

It was my turn to be served before I could come up with a half decent reply, and the two of quickly said their goodbyes and hurried away, hand in hand.

.

.

My vibrating phone forced me awake again, and it was only then I realised I'd fallen asleep watching movies on my laptop. It was my mother, and I spent the next hour arranging the logistics of her and dad coming to stay overnight with me. They were taking Kate back to their place at the beginning of the school holidays to give Eleazar and Carmen a little 'free time', and didn't want to have to drive the three hours to El's house and back in one day. They lived out of town, and I lived about fifteen minutes' drive from Eleazar.

My brother also didn't have a spare room, meaning that he'd have to evict Kate from her bedroom and set up airbeds as a means of accommodation. I quickly assured her that it was fine if she and dad stayed here for that night; old people couldn't be sleeping on the floor, anyway. Mum didn't appreciate that comment, though.

"Listen, sweetheart, I'd like to meet Carlisle again. I don't want him to feel pushed out of this family; he's a sweet boy," she started carefully.

"Mum, there's no way in hell I'm letting dad anywhere near him for a long time." I tried not to snap, but I couldn't really manage it.

"He's a big part of your life, Garrett. You can't keep him separate from us forever. Carmen told us how good he was with Kate, and how much happier she was after she spent the day with him. Your father will make an effort-"

"No, mum. That's fine to say, but you didn't see what it did to him last time. I can't do that to him again."

"At some point we're going to have to."

"I love him," I pointed out bluntly. "I don't want him to be hurt again."

"That's my point, Garrett," she murmured quietly.

.

.

We'd agreed on dinner at my place, and then I was driving Carlisle home so my father wasn't in his face. He was glued to my side, visibly anxious and trying to hide it.

"Google maps has marked your place as 'home' on my phone, because I'm here so much," he told me, laughing nervously. His smile quickly fell and he looked down, biting his lip as he failed at distracting himself. I hadn't realised google had the ability to be cute, but it made me grin anyway.

"It'll be fine, Carlisle. If he's horrible to you, I'll kick him out. He's in my house now," I assured him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him against me. "It'll be okay. It's only for an hour or so, and then you can go home and cuddle Allie." It was only half teasing; I knew he'd need a hug after this, and it hurt that I wouldn't be the one to give it to him.

He buried his face in my neck, his arms around my shoulders. The noise he made was somewhere between a moan and a whimper. "…I could just go home now, and-" He cut himself off at the knock on my door, flinching into me.

"It'll be okay. I love you." I let him go and went to let my parents in. Forcing a smile at them, I guided them into the kitchen. Carlisle had already set the table earlier in the evening just to busy himself, so I had them sitting immediately.

"Hi, sweetheart, how are you?" mum asked him, smiling although he'd sort of tucked himself behind me.

He smiled weakly, but couldn't bring himself to answer. Sitting at the table, he kept me between himself and my parents, which was understandable. Dad didn't acknowledge him at all, and Carlisle blew out a shaky breath, his hand on my leg under the table while we ate. I usually didn't have any issues eating around my parents when it was only them, but knowing that Carlisle was so uncomfortable made swallowing a little harder.

The silence was thick and awkward, but thankfully mum had brought a bottle of wine with her. I poured it into four glasses, kissing the top of Carlisle's head as I put his in front him and ignoring the glare it earned from my father. We managed to keep up a normal conversation, but my boyfriend was rather excluded, sipping his drink and staying quiet. Dad didn't openly attack him again, which was promising.

My head spun as I stood up to clear the plates; the alcohol was stronger than I'd anticipated, obviously. "What'd you put in that bottle, mum?" I laughed, keeping my hand on the table until I felt steady.

"Have you never had good wine before, boy?" Dad teased, in a better mood.

"Can't say it's normally my drink of choice, no." I wasn't drunk yet, more tipsy and pleasantly buzzed. Carlisle had hit the bottom of his glass too, but shook his head when I offered to refill it for him. If I was feeling like this, then he would be feeling the effects of the drink too. He was a little more relaxed now too, managing to keep up a polite conversation with my mother.

We did the dishes together while my parents got themselves settled in the spare room.

"I think I've had too much to drive you home, Carlisle," I admitted. "I can call you a taxi, though?"

A little intoxicated and now quite giggly, he momentarily forgot that he was supposed to be drying plates and leant up to kiss me. "Can I stay? I want cuddles, and I don't want them from Alistair…"

"Yeah, but my dad will still be here in the morning," I reminded him, laughing. "You're okay with that?"

He nodded, his lips against my jaw now.

"Carlisle," I warned lowly, trying to keep my thoughts together.

Hugging me suddenly, his body was against mine, pushing me back against the counter. "No fucking in the kitchen," he remined me, whispering to me although we were the only ones in the room now.

"No fucking while my parents are here," I whispered back, locking our fingers together and kissing him back. I wasn't sure how long I would be able to uphold that rule, if he continued this; already I was getting worked up, and the more he shifted against, the worse it got.

"I'll be good," he promised. "I don't want your dad to hate me even more." It was kind of a joke, but he wasn't drunk enough to forget about that, and was still a little on edge.

 _I might not be._ "You'd better be." I ran my hands down his sides and along the waist of his jeans, tugging them slightly.

As if pre-empting what was going on, mum called out a goodnight from down the hallway, and I heard their bedroom door shut a few seconds later. It had both of us trying to smother our laughter, guilty.

"Forget the dishes, Carlisle. Let's go to bed." Setting down the sponge, I took his hand, pulling him toward the bedroom. "And I'll hide you from my father in the morning if I have to."


	24. Chapter 24

**This is more a filler chapter than anything else, so it might be kind of repetitive. I'm not sure. Next week, things are better.**

It was odd lying in bed the next morning and hearing my parents chatting in the other bedroom. Something about their presence stopped Carlisle from wanting to wrap himself around me like he usually did, and he had opted for holding my hand under the blankets instead. I squeezed his fingers and forced myself to sit up; I couldn't ignore them for much longer, no matter how appealing it might seem. With a sigh, I slid out of bed.

Despite the fact we'd been together for _months_ , I was still nervous when Carlisle was in the room and I needed to pick clothing. It was ridiculous; I certainly had no problem getting _un_ dressed in front of him. But every inch of me hated it, and I didn't want him to watch the OCD process I went through every time I picked clothes.

Usually, he respected that and left, but he obviously didn't want to be alone in a room with my father, and I certainly wasn't about to kick him out and make him. "What's wrong?" he asked, seeing my expression.

"I'm just…nervous," I told him awkwardly, confused as to why having a cute boy sitting on my bed was an issue.

"About?" He reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers and pulling me to sit on the bed next to him.

"…I have to get dressed…"

"Sadly, yeah," he agreed, laughing to himself.

"…I've never done that in front of you…"

"Garrett, do you remember how many times I've seen you naked? I won't look, if it upsets you that much." He was trying to tease me, but genuine concern was ebbing in, resulting in a gentle kiss.

"Yeah, but…I'm…fussy." It seemed like the best word, without blatantly telling him I was fucking insane.

"I know." Bringing our lips together, he hugged me. "I can go, if you're too anxious?"

I shook my head, feeling all kinds of stupid and guilty. "Stay…just don't laugh…" I told him, my voice muffled by his clothing. I was such a fucking idiot.

"I wouldn't laugh at you, Garrett," he assured me, kissing my neck. "But let's not give your parents the wrong idea?"

Groaning, I just wandered back toward my closet, overly thankful that Carlisle made a point of focusing on his phone and not watching me. I eventually pulled on a shirt and wriggled back into my jeans from yesterday, feeling a bit sick. My knees were a little wobbly, but I felt a little better with my boyfriend holding my hand. I was such a fucking idiot.

"Are you okay, Garrett?" he murmured to me, gently collecting my face in his hands and placing a kiss on my lips.

Sliding my arms around his waist, I nodded, feeling a little better after the intimacy. "Yeah. I'm okay."

"Love you." He stepped back to hold my hand, slowly leading me out into the hallway. Nerves were bubbling under the surface of his calm demeanour, and I felt bad for being selfish and wrapped up in my own worries when he was the one having to face my ass of a father.

Mum was already drinking coffee when we came into the kitchen, and we both breathed a sigh of relief to see that dad wasn't present. Carlisle quickly offered to make breakfast so I could have some time with my mother, and I knew that having something to do would calm him a bit. The request of pancakes was made, and he smiled in relief.

It was nice being with my mother, and she chatted easily to both me and Carlisle. All my anxieties from earlier had dissolved, and the tension in Carlisle's shoulders had relaxed. He set the food on the table, and we all sat down to eat. I felt the warmth of my boyfriend's arm surround my waist, and he leant his head against me shoulder. I kissed his forehead and leaned my cheek on the top of his head. Mum was hiding a smug smile.

"You boys are cute together," she told me, smiling in the proud way only mothers could.

Before I could respond, my father interrupted. "I beg to differ," he grumbled, sitting himself at the table across from me. "I thought you were leaving last night?" His eyes were focused on Carlisle.

He quickly sat up and jerked away from me, ceasing any contact between us. The blatant panic on his face made my heart sink.

"It's okay," I whispered to him, rubbing his leg and squeezing his fingers when he threaded them through mine.

"Carlisle made breakfast, love, isn't that nice?" my mother asked, trying to get dad to warm up.

His frown only deepened. "At least he is good for something."

" _Dad_ ," I hissed at him, fuming already. I'd thought we'd gotten passed this, and I certainly couldn't stomach him attacking Carlisle again.

"It's fine, Garrett," my boyfriend told me quickly, ducking his head and drawing into himself. If he freaked out in front of my father, I knew dad would never let him forget it, so I quietly tried to calm him down again. "He doesn't have to try it…"

I sighed angrily, wrapping my arm around his shoulders and pulling him into my side. My glare was intimidating enough to drive my father to shoving a mouthful between his lips, but he didn't drop his stare from Carlisle.

Silently having a complete meltdown, Carlisle was squirming uncomfortably next to me, hyperventilating. His breath kept catching in his throat and he was biting his lip to keep from making any sound. I just hoped he wouldn't cry. Not until dad was gone.

No one knew how to break the tense silence. I wasn't sure how to apprehend my father for bullying my boyfriend when he wasn't saying anything, and this time my brother wasn't there to distract him.

"It's passable," he said shortly. "Maybe you'll be a good enough wife for my son one day."

" _Dad._ "

He grunted once in annoyance.

Everyone finished their meals in silence, except for Carlisle, who was only managing tiny mouthfuls as his cheeks burnt.

I let out a heavy sigh of relief when they announced that they'd better be going again; the sooner my father was away from Carlisle, the better.

"It was good to see you again, sweetheart," she murmured, pulling him into a hug. "Thank you for coming to meet us again." Kissing his cheek, she squeezed his hand as he risked a nervous glance up at her.

Dad was stiff, and the pleasant expression he tried to master was more a grimace. Words seemed to get stuck in his mouth, but he eventually came out with: "I'll see you at Christmas, Carlisle."

.

.

"At least he called me by my name this time?"

For the last half an hour, Carlisle had been diligently trying to convince me not to be resentful toward my father. It wasn't working, and I was still bitter as fuck that he'd done that again. Granted, it been a little _better_.

"I'm sorry, I should be the one making you feel better," I sighed. He was sitting on the arm of the couch beside me, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. When I pulled him, he fell into my lap, laughing as he ended up tangled in me. I kissed the side on his face and leant my head against his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Gar, you're acting like he beat the shit out of me," he teased, bringing our lips together.

"I guess he did unofficially invite you to family Christmas," I grumbled. "Although I would have dragged you along anyway."

"Hmm…" Immediately the subject made him uncomfortable, so I dropped it, hugging him instead.

Something else was bugging me, though. "I saw Edward the other day," I told him.

His reaction was almost the same as last time, and he was suddenly hesitant and a little pink. "Ah…yeah?"

I laughed at his expression, bringing our lips together. "He said you didn't want to be one of the groomsmen at his wedding?"

He quickly shook his head, his eyes widening. "Weddings really aren't my thing…I'll projectile vomit if he makes me stand in front of everyone. I know they'll all be looking at Bella, but still…" Even just talking about it, I could tell it made him feel weird.

I couldn't resist another jab, though. "He said you'd look cute in a suit, too."

"I'm going to fucking murder Alistair for telling you I used to like him," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "I'm going to have to keep you two separate from now on."

"Oh? You've got something else to tell me, then?" I teased, shifting so that he was sitting beside me rather than on me, his legs across my lap and my hand on his thigh.

"Only that I love you?" Tangling his fingers in the collar of my shirt, he pulled me down for a kiss.

"That was cheesy," I accused, laughing and shaking my head at him.

"True, though." Another kiss. "I'm taking you with me, by the way. I'm not going to a wedding without you with me."

"I haven't been invited, Carlisle, you can't drag me in there unannounced." Weddings were fun and all, but I wasn't about to gate-crash a couple's perfect day.

"Alistair is bringing his partner." His smug smile had me chuckling as he tried to dig his flatmate a hole.

I knew he was baiting me, but in all honesty, the gossip was too hard to resist. "Partner, huh? When did that happen?"

He shrugged. "A couple of months ago. I thought they were just fucking for fun, until 'I love yous' came into it."

"So they're serious, then?" I hadn't realised Alistair's happiness meant so much to me until this moment, but I found myself smiling at the thought of him having someone to come home to, seeming as I stole Carlisle pretty much every night. Perhaps that's why he could tolerate me now.

"God only knows with Alistair, but he seems to like the boy, at least."

"Why am I only hearing about this now?" I whined, childishly wanting in on the drama. Maybe I'd have been better off a teenaged girl. So much for being an adult male.

Carlisle obviously didn't care for it all that much. "Because I didn't think you'd care? You two don't even like each other?"

"I think we've been getting along just fine." Running my fingers through his hair, I brushed it off his face, condescendingly kissing his forehead. "In fact, I think you might even consider us friendly."

He groaned and rolled his eyes, shoving my shoulder lightly. "That's terrifying." Apparently, we both knew there was no way he was going to catch a break with the two of us teamed up together. "Maybe I'll have to start hanging out with Eleazar."

As much I knew I'd get endless shit if they did decide to get together, the thought of my boyfriend being comfortable enough to spend time with my brother was something that warmed my heart. I hoped they'd get to that point one day; Carlisle was still far too nervous to be that closely involved with my family. "You're winning them over, you know," I murmured, rubbing his leg. "Mum and Carmen love you to bits, and Eleazar likes you too."

"Just not your dad," he mumbled, shy suddenly.

"We'll get there, Carlisle," I promised.


	25. Chapter 25

**The grammar in this one read wrong no matter how many times I reworked. Sorry in advance!**

"My little bookworm," I teased, taking the novel out of his hands and nudging his thigh as an indication that I wanted to sit down on the couch next to him. "Move your legs."

"Don't lose my place!" he pleaded, borderline frantic. His eyes widened as I started to dog-ear the page, so I quickly righted myself and used the bookmark on the table instead. "And that pet name is not going to be a thing."

"Neither was 'Gar', but I guess that stuck," I grinned at him, laughing when he couldn't resist a smile. I looked down at the pages in front of me. "Steven King, huh?"

"I mean, he's only the best fictional horror writer _ever_."

"You," I leaned forward to kiss him. "Are a dork."

"It was either that, or Lord of the Rings again," he admitted.

"Lord Thranduil doesn't do it for you?" I had no fucking clue what I was talking about, and by the look on Carlisle's face, I'd just said something horrifically offensive.

" _King_ Thranduil!"

"Don't act like I've committed a crime," I chuckled.

"Garrett, the people of Middle-earth will come for you, and I'm not going to stop them. That's high treason."

"You're adorable," I concluded.

He rolled his eyes at me and settled again, snatching the book back and trying to hide a smile as I turned on the TV.

"First ad of the season, and it's only mid-November," I laughed, watching the Christmas based infomercial play out. It would take the magic out of Christmas; it didn't seem as special when it was advertised all bloody year. I hated that Kate was overly exposed to Santa, as stupid as it seemed. I wished they'd get him off TV to let him keep some of his magic; it really wasn't fair to the kids that he was so overly commercialised.

Carlisle said nothing, not even looking at the TV. His anxious fidgeting raised a red flag though.

I reached over to still his hands. "You okay?"

He nodded unconvincingly, biting his lip as his fingers tightened around the cover of the book.

"You can tell me, Carlisle, it's alright," I reminded him, kissing his forehead.

"…Turn it off…please?" he mumbled to me. The desperate note in his voice made me do it immediately, shutting it down as more images celebration and present openings flashed across the screen.

"What happened?" I tried again. His change in mood from a few minutes ago was confusing.

My boyfriend looked vaguely frightened. "…I hate it…Christmas time, I mean…"

"How can anyone hate Christmas," I chuckled, wrapping my arm around his shoulder and kissing the top of his head.

"…because I've never had one…my father forbade me…I was only allowed to watch the family Christmas…and I'd go back to school and that was all anyone could talk about…" He leant his head against my chest with a sigh. "…I can't get away from it…birthdays are easy; I just ignore them, but I can't make Christmas stop…"

"Not this time, Carlisle. We'll do it properly this year," I promised, hugging him tightly. "You're part of a family now. I have to go Christmas shopping tomorrow; you should come too?" I hated the job, but I'd prefer to have it done sooner than later to avoid the mad rushes. "That is, if you want the tortures as well as the joy?"

"What's so awful about buying presents?" My distaste for it had made him laugh, if nothing else.

"You'll see," I threatened. I'd always had a short fuse when it came down to gift buying, and hoped Carlisle might stop me from snapping at an over-worked store clerk.

.

.

It was a bloody good thing it wasn't December yet; there were decorations out, but nothing overly extravagant, yet the sight of reindeer and Santa was enough to trigger Carlisle into a muted panic attack. I was starting to doubt my judgement on dragging him along, but every time I suggested we go home, he shook his head, insisting he was okay.

"Wanna go get coffee after this?" I asked, rubbing his back as we stood in the check out together. He was keeping a foot between him and our cart at all times, refusing to make eye contact with the wrapping paper I was buying. There were still a few more shops I needed to go to, but I was trying to gauge how much he could handle.

"Yeah, okay," he nodded stiffly, uncomfortable. The woman behind the counter was visibly confused at his behaviour, and I had to admit that his silence and apparently dark mood would have appeared rather shady had I not known what was wrong.

"Are you sure you're alright? I can take you home and do this another day," I reminded him, squeezing his hand as we sat down at a table.

"I'm alright, Garrett, all of this is just really weird…" he mumbled, offering an apologetic smile.

"How on earth do you survive this time of year normally?"

He shrugged. "It's kinda stressful…I pretend it's not happening and wait until it's gone again…"

"Tell me if this all gets too much, alright? Americans have a tendency to be quite, ah, enthusiastic about Christmas, and my family is a good example of that."

Nodding, he already looked a little overwhelmed, but the caffeine seemed to help steel his nerves. I watched while he picked apart a muffin, barely eating it but taking comfort in it's destruction. Not able to face eating anything myself, I waited until he had finished and then we walked hand in hand through another store. Carlisle eventually wandered off, presumably to look at books, leaving me to finish finding the items on my list.

My brother had invited us over for dinner, but I was sceptical of putting my boyfriend through that today as well. I _really_ didn't want to push him too far; I didn't want this time of year to be perpetually traumatising.

"Hey." I slid my arm around his waist as I approached him, and he automatically turned to hug me.

"Hey." Kissing me gently, he was smiling now, seemingly happier. "Are you done, or are you going to decapitate a sales lady?"

"I'm finished," I laughed, rolling my eyes at him. "Eleazar invited us to dinner, are you up to that?"

"Yeah, that's fine." Whatever tension had been plaguing him before was gone now; books were obviously more comforting that I gave them credit for.

I tried to glance at the novel he was holding, but I didn't recognise the author or the title. Trust him to pick something obscure – not that I was overly knowledgeable about them. "I don't know what I'm going to get Kate," I grumbled as we loaded the stuff into the car. "What on earth do five-year-olds want, anyway?"

"She likes painting," he pointed out. "The ones she has at the moment are terrible."

"Kid's paint sets are shit, though, and I don't have a clue about any actual art stuff."

"I'll take you to an art shop tomorrow, and we'll sort it out then," he assured me.

.

.

I was partly ease-dropping on Carlisle and Carmen; I loved that he got on so well with my sister in-law. I knew he liked talking to her – they had similar interests, and he wasn't so shy around her, which was a relief considering the trouble dad gave him. It was probably the only reason he was okay about coming to visit my brother with me in the first place. Apparently, he was comfortable enough to stay in the kitchen with her while Eleazar and I sat in the longue, and I found myself smiling unintentionally.

Kate charged into the room, babbling something incoherent and throwing herself into my lap. "Uncle Garrett!"

Laughing, I scooped her up, sitting her on my knee. "Hi, Katie, how is school?"

She ignored my question. "Why is Carlisle with you all the time?"

Eleazar swallowed a laugh, and I almost choked. That was _not_ what I had expected to come out of her mouth, and her observation had made my face flush. Trust the five-year-old. "Ah, Carlisle is, um, my best friend, Kate," I told her, fairly confident that Eleazar didn't want to have to tell to his five-year-old what a gay relationship was; this was the simplest explanation I could come up with on the spot. The questions would be endless otherwise. "I miss him when I don't have him."

My brother took me by surprise, though. Instead of just agreeing, he explained to her how I loved Carlisle like "mummy loved daddy". Had the gesture not been so sweet, I would have been laughing at the way he tried to describe the concept, but I was taken aback by the gesture. All I could offer him was a shaky smile when our eyes met.

Kate was easily satisfied, accepting it and wriggling away to go and play again, leaving me and Eleazar alone.

"How's dad been with him, anyway?" My brother kept his voice low, glancing back into the kitchen where his wife and my boyfriend stood at the bench together, apparently enthusiastic over some new book about to hit the shelves. Neither of them had heard the conversation.

"Better, I guess. He's still not nice to him, but he didn't shred him last time they were together." I still couldn't stop myself from frowning. "I just feel so bad; dad got on well with him at Kate's birthday party, but as soon as Carlisle was labelled 'boyfriend', he's been horrible to him."

He nodded slowly. "But has Carlisle been, ah, good for you?"

I wasn't quite sure what he was asking, but I knew the answer and couldn't resist smiling at the thought of him. "He's perfect, El. I love him so much."

"Ew, okay, don't be sappy," he grumbled, cringing. "I just need to know your happy with him."

"Honestly, I've never been happier. It's impossible to feel bad around him; he makes me feel good about myself in way I've never thought possible. It's cliché, I know, but…I love him," I shrugged, not sure why I was suddenly baring my heart to my brother. I'd hated it when he talked about Carmen like this; it was just uncomfortable. Maybe it had something to do with him being comfortable enough to explain to his child what the relationship I had with Carlisle really was.

Eleazar was hiding a smile though, understanding. "Why aren't you two living together, then?"

I nibbled my lip, considering my answer for a moment, before sighing. "I'm scared he'll say no, and I don't want to freak him out if he's not ready."

"But you're ready, though," he pointed out.

I just nodded, seeing no point in lying. It was more than true that I tried to spend as much time as I could around Carlisle.

.

.

It was stupid how comforting the weight of his body against mine was. He was more on me than beside me really, his ribs against my stomach as he tangled his fingers in my hair to kiss me. And I liked it a lot; it wasn't often that he was on top of _me._ Sadly, we were still at my brother's place; it was Kate's bedtime, and they'd left me and Carlisle alone too long in one of the side rooms.

I used the beltloops of his jeans to pull him closer, both of us laughing a little as he slipped and fell into me. I wrapped my arms around him, kissing my way down his jaw and along his neck, and he buried his face in my shoulder.

Eleazar knocked loudly on the open door as he passed. "Don't want to have to explain to my daughter how sex works, Garrett," he warned. "Go and kiss your niece goodnight before she comes looking for you, and finds your tongue halfway down Carlisle's throat." He was teasing. Mostly.

I laughed, a little embarrassed but glad that my brother's reaction hadn't been terrible, seeming as this was the first time he'd really seen the intimacy between me and Carlisle. To Eleazar's credit, we weren't being particularly appropriate, seeming as we were both in _his_ house and it was only early in the evening.

My boyfriend's face immediately became warm and he froze. He didn't sit back, I think so he didn't have to face Eleazar.

"Sorry, El," I called to him as he disappeared down the hallway.

"Keep it in your pants," he grumbled back, out of sight.

Still chuckling, I kissed Carlisle once more before sitting up, rubbing his leg as he frowned. "Don't go getting yourself all worked up now," I teased him.

He rolled his eyes at me, his hands still on my waist. "You started it." Another soft kiss.

"I'll finish it, too," I grumbled at him. "When we get home." Straightening my clothing again, I went to say goodnight to Kate before Carmen had to convince her to get in bed all over again.


	26. Chapter 26

I wasn't listening to a word he said. None of it mattered, really; I still wouldn't have a clue by the time we went home. I was vaguely aware that he'd spent the last five minutes trying to explain to me why we couldn't buy a child oil pants, despite them coming in pretty tubes which I had deemed perfect for a child. The shop assistant looked amused, though she was nodding in agreement with my boyfriend. I didn't blame the guy; it was fucking adorable.

"So, acrylic paint, then?" I asked, trying to remember my options.

Carlisle nodded, surprisingly patient considering how many times we'd spoken about this at home. He kept his mouth shut, but frowned when I picked up a tube at random, assuming that this shade of white would do.

"What? It's white paint," I laughed, rolling my eyes. "I'm not going to stand here and discuss how 'eggshell' is different from 'blanc'."

"Fine, but…that's a textured paint, Gar. It's not white…"

I glared at the offensive tube, my mood quickly dissolving. It was fucking paint; I just wanted to go home. Sensing I was about to rip my hair out, Carlisle took it out of my hands, replacing it with what was apparently plain damn paint. I hated myself for having to ask the next question. "What are the primary colours again?"

Both the shop assistant and my boyfriend groaned, making eye contact and starting to laugh. I let them have their fun, seeming as I was essentially going to be bratty child for the rest of the day.

Eventually, I managed to put enough stuff together which was apparently novice-painter appropriate, and we finally got to go home. I bribed Carlisle with pizza to get him to help me wrap everything, not considering for a second the implications this was going to have.

"Garrett…"

Ripping off the plastic covering the roll of wrapping paper with my teeth, I glanced over my shoulder at him. "What?" I'd been hoping that he was feeling more comfortable with the idea of Christmas, seeming as he'd been involved in the process, but he looked like he was about to climb out the window at the very thought of touching the brightly coloured paper. He'd been fine with it an hour ago in the car. "It's just paper, Carlisle, it's fine."

"Yeah, but…I don't know how…"

"What'd you mean?" I set it down, reaching over to rub his arm.

"You can laugh, but…I've never really wrapped presents before…not properly…" He tried to smile and make it a joke, but it couldn't quite stick, and he looked away again.

I kissed his forehead, my heart squeezing the more I thought about his upbringing – or rather, lack of one. "That's okay; I'll teach you. But you don't have to help if you don't want to," I reminded him.

"…You've already paid me in pizza, so…" Again, he was trying to tease me, but was too unsure of himself to pull it off.

I chuckled anyway. "Your company will be just fine."

He sat next to me at the table, watching as I started the tedious task. He couldn't quite bring himself to touch anything.

"Every year my parents hold a lunch at their place on Christmas day, and usually all the present opening happens there, so we're going to have to drag all this shit back to the car eventually," I sighed, rolling out a sheet of paper and grabbing the scissors.

Watching in silence, he obediently handed me some tape.

"Are you…Will you be okay with that?" I asked slowly, suddenly realising that this could become a major issue if I let it.

He nodded slowly, but it was more to please me than anything.

"Don't lie to me, Carlisle. I want to know the truth now, so we can deal with it," I warned, starting to become frustrated.

"I don't know," he mumbled, looking away and trying to shut down the conversation.

"Well, are you going to lose your shit if I take you?"

"I don't know," he repeated, a little irritated now.

"There's going to be wrapping paper everywhere, is that going to be a problem?" I help up the roll, unable to resist rolling my eyes when he flinched back.

"Don't." All joking was gone now, and he was genuinely not happy about it.

"If you can't handle it on the roll, how on earth are you going to cope with it being thrown about the room? Mum likes Christmas carols too, by the way, so you're going to have to learn to like Christmas ads as well." There was a little too much sarcasm in my voice, but his lack of commitment to the situation was going to drive me up the wall.

"Trust me, Garrett, the worst part of Christmas day is going to be sitting through hours of your father hating me-"

"He doesn't _hate_ you, he's just-"

"I'm not a fucking idiot," he snapped back.

"Well, he's going to be even less impressed with you if I take you and you freak out, and upset everyone," I threatened.

"I'll stay home and you can go by yourself, then."

"Christmas doesn't work like. You can't spend it alone." I gritted my teeth to keep from growling something mean, and I got the sense he was doing the same. Our voices were raised, though mine more so than his.

"I have every other year; I might as well just add this one to the list!" Jumping up from the table, he stormed out of the room, snatching his keys up and making for the front door.

"Carlisle, where are you going?" I demanded, getting to my feet to follow him.

"Home. Before one of us does something we regret," he snapped at me, slamming the front door in my face as I reached to grab his hand.

I groaned and leaned my head against the wood, sighing heavily.

.

.

I'd regretted it the minute the latch in the door handle clicked shut. Over the last three hours, I'd been sitting on the couch waiting for Alistair's abusive text, or to hear literally anything from Carlisle. I assumed that if my boyfriend text me, there be one of two outcomes; either the fight was over, and we were sorry, or _we_ were over.

Falling back on to the couch, I folded my arms over my face to block out the light. It hadn't been _that_ serious, had it? Not enough to end everything, I didn't think. But still, the anticipation was killing me; this was our first real fight.

In the end, I couldn't stand it any longer, giving in and calling him. It rang twice, and then went straight to voicemail as he rejected the call. Groaning, I tried again, and this time it was instant. _Fucking hell._ "Answer your phone, Carlisle," I pleaded as soon as it beeped, indicating it was recording.

I waited a few minutes, hoping he would listen to it, before ringing again. This time, it rang for a few times, but he eventually picked up. And then I didn't know what to say to him.

"…I'm sorry I yelled at you," he told me after a long pause, breaking the silence.

I rubbed my hand over my face. "Me too, Carlisle. I shouldn't have said what I did; I know this time of year is difficult for you."

"I'm trying, Garrett. I promise I'm trying really fucking hard, and I know it's not good enough, but I'm trying to deal with it…"

Blowing out a long breath, I tried to collect my thoughts. "Look, don't worry about Christmas day, alright? If you're really not comfortable, we can stay home, or just go to my parents for an hour or so. I'm not going to throw you in the deep end by yourself."

"…I feel like a child…" he mumbled, sounding upset.

"Can I come over, Carlisle?" I asked hesitantly, wondering if he was mad enough at me to say no.

"Yes please…"

.

.

He hugged me immediately upon opening the door, wrapping his arms around my neck. "I'm sorry."

I slipped my arms around his waist, squeezing him tightly and resting my chin on the top of his head. "Me too."

Cuddling into me, he pulled me closer. "Stay tonight?"

"Yeah." I kissed him cautiously, still nervous he might reject it.

He didn't, though, tangling his fingers in my hair as his lips gently moved against mine. "Thank you."

I let him lead me inside as he stepped back, keeping hold of his hand. "Where's Alistair?"

"He's with his boy," he told me with a smug smile. "I doubt he'll be home tonight."

"So I've got you all to myself, then?"

"Yep." He squeezed my hand, and I smiled in relief; I didn't want to deal with him if he knew about our argument. Alistair was not going to be impressed. "I haven't told him, by the way," he murmured suddenly, as if reading my mind.

"I think he would have killed me for upsetting you," I chuckled, kissing his forehead.

He sighed quietly, squeezing me a little tighter. "It wasn't you, Garrett. I'm just…it's the whole damn season. I know I'm hard to live with at the moment; that's probably why Allie isn't here very much anymore…I know I'm shitty to be around…"

"Carlisle," I sighed, rubbing his back. "You're not…Come here, sit down." Pulling him over to the couch, I made him sit next to me. "It's alright; we'll deal with it. And you're not bad to be around, by the way, I love you."

"I love you too," he mumbled into me.

Lying in bed next to him hours later, I couldn't sleep. I moulded my body to the shape of his, shuffling closer to wrap my arms around his waist to pull him into me. It had jostled him semi-awake, and he sleepily rubbed my arm, leaning back against my chest. It helped me calm down a little, but I was still stuck.

I wanted Carlisle to have the best 'first' Christmas possible, but I didn't want to freak him out. I hadn't planned on something as small as _wrapping paper_ upsetting him so much, and there was no way in hell I could take him to my family on Christmas day if he worked himself up into a state; it wouldn't be fair.

"…Gar…" he mumbled, resting his head on my shoulder as he rolled over to face me.

"Hmm?"

"…I wanna go with you…to Christmas…"

Even though I was tired, I still chuckled. "You don't 'go' to Christmas."

"…to your Christmas…"

"I want you there too," I murmured, kissing the side of his face. "We'll work this out."


	27. Chapter 27

"Do you think this is okay?" I whined as I wandered into the longue. "I don't know if its the right thing to be wearing in the first place?" Apparently, letting Carlisle watch me choose an outfit once had been a gateway to me making him endure the agonising process again whenever we had to go out somewhere. The occasion this time was a stupid end-of-year lunch-party-thing thrown by the company I worked; it happened every year, and every year I spent the majority of it trying to avoid meals, photos and people. Unfortunately, it was being held in a fancy restaurant this year, and I was sure I was about to lose my mind. This time, I was dragging my boyfriend along for moral support.

"You're talking to someone who wears the same pair of jeans and owns like three shirts," he laughed. That wasn't true; even if it was an unconscious effort, that boy managed to look subtly different every time I saw him. I should know; I spent enough time staring. "I'm never wearing suit pants again, by the way. If we get married, I'm wearing jeans or I'm boycotting." He looked uncomfortable too, apparently hating the clothing as much as I did.

I rolled my eyes at him, but he really did look cute as fuck dressed up. "Carlisle…" I pleaded.

"You're gay, babe, figure it out," he teased, purposefully patronising. I knew he was baiting me, and didn't rise to the challenge. "Aren't you boys supposed to be good at fashion?"

"You were gay first," I accused, trying not to laugh as he teased me with the stereotype, hating it so much himself that he couldn't resist cringing at his own joke.

"No way; I've had a girlfriend," he shook his head, grinning.

"Oh, you did not," I laughed.

"Her name was Esme," he teased again, fighting off a smile.

I leant against the doorframe, putting my anxieties on hold for a moment; we hadn't talked about this before, and I was intrigued. I'd assumed he'd only ever dated guys. "Why'd you two break up?" I asked curiosity.

He hesitated, then laughed a little, his face flushing a very light shade of pink. "Because I realised I'd rather be fucking boys," he told me simply.

"How did Alistair put it, again? Taking it up the ass?"

"Fuck off. Don't you start as well," he grumbled, unable to stop a smile anyway.

I waited a little while, but my anxiety was growing again. "Okay, but really, should I change, or-"

I hadn't seen him move, too distracted, but he was suddenly right in front of me, holding my face in his hands as he gently placed a kiss on my lips. "No, you're perfect the way you are. Please stop worrying before you hurt yourself." Another kiss, this one just as soft as the last one.

My arms found their way around him, pulling his body against mine as I rested my chin on his shoulder. "I'm nervous," I admitted quietly.

"I know." He kissed my neck. "But you'll be okay, and I'll be there with you the whole time."

I squeezed him a little tighter, burying my face in his shoulder and unable to force back a moan. "…I'll have to eat…" I felt sick at the mere thought of it, already a little lightheaded.

"It'll be alright, Garrett." All the joking from before had vanished, and the comfort was genuine.

"I don't want to go," I whispered, my voice muffled by his clothing. My eyes were burning, and I swallowed thickly. "Carlisle…"

He glanced at the clock behind me, running his hand down my back. "Look, in five hours from now, it'll all be over and we'll be back here and we can go to bed and forget about it, alright?" he soothed.

I nodded slowly, not having another choice.

Kissing me once more, he let me go and stepped back. "Go and put your shoes on, or we'll be late."

I needed his childish reminder just to keep me sane for a few minutes longer.

.

.

"Just take little bites, Gar, you don't have to eat all of it," Carlisle was murmuring to me, rubbing my leg under the table.

I knew if I looked up at him, I'd lose it completely, so I kept my eyes on the floor and my mouth shut. It was hard though; I just wanted to go home again, and Carlisle was the closest thing to home right now. If the plate stayed in front of me much longer, I was going to puke. The continuous chatter of my co-workers didn't make me feel any better, either. They kept asking what we thought of the meals and wanting to compare the food to other restaurants we'd eaten in, and I was overwhelmed and panicky.

His smile immediately fell, and he rubbed my hand, trying to get me to unclench my fists. "Only another hour, okay? You're doing well," he reminded me, kissing my cheek. I shook my head, and he hugged me as much as he was able to. "Breathe, Garrett. You're holding your breath."

"…my stomach hurts and I want to go home," I childishly pleaded with him. I was sure I was going to vomit.

"I know, I'm sorry. Do you want to go outside until dinner is over?"

I nodded, feeling sorry for myself and wanting out; this was literally my worst nightmare. Refusing to let go of his hand, I stood up and let him lead me out. Gulping lungful's of fresh air helped to clear my head a little bit, but I still felt ill. "I'm ruining everything," I mumbled as I hugged Carlisle.

"No, you aren't, Garrett. It'll be over soon." He kissed the side of my face. "They're almost done with dinner anyway; the worse of it is almost finished."

"They'll notice I haven't eaten it, and they're going to ask questions, and I don't want to tell them-"

"Gar, it's fine. You don't have to tell them anything. If you want to go home now, we can go, and you can blame it on me later when they ask." Squeezing me tightly, he rubbed my back while I leant my head against his shoulder.

"…I hate this…I feel like such a fucking child…" My voice was muffled by his clothing, and I wasn't sure he understood me.

"It's not your fault; just calm down before you hurt yourself."

I forced myself to take a few deep breaths, trying to ease the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. Focusing on Carlisle helped; he was warm and safe and felt like home. "I'm sorry for doing this to you; I just couldn't face going alone again."

"You don't have to go to anything alone ever again, if you don't want to," he promised, and I believed him.

.

.

I didn't even make it to the car before dissolving into tears; frustrated with myself for not being able to handle a fucking dinner. As soon as we were away from everyone else, the relief to be going home was overwhelming, and the repressed panic from before resurfaced. Although I initially tried to hide that from Carlisle, he caught me out within the first three seconds and immediately stopped to hug me.

"It's okay," he murmured quietly, rubbing my back. "It's all over now."

I nodded, comforted just by his proximity. Driving was going to be an issue; I was too shaky to be able to cope with that yet, but I desperately wanted to go home _right fucking now._ "I-I-I…" Unable to actually get the words out, I pulled the keys out of my pocket, toying with them as a means of distracting myself.

He was quiet for a moment, but forced a smile. "I can drive home, if you want."

Trying to wipe my face dry, I forced a smile and tried to tease him. I couldn't deny I wasn't relieved with the offer, though. "Y-you know how?"

Laughing a little, he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, showing me his driver's license. "Yes, sir."

I nodded and handed him the keys. It felt strange getting in the passenger's side, and Carlisle looked uneasy. "H-how come I've never seen you drive before?"

He glanced over at me, and then quickly back at the road as he pulled out of the parking lot. "I'll tell you about it when you're feeling better."

I took his hand, glad that the car was an automatic and he didn't need both to drive. We didn't talk much on the way back, but I was squeezing his fingers for dear life, trying to keep my mouth shut and put a lid on my panic. I desperately wanted to beg Carlisle to pull over just to hug me again, biting down hard on my lip to hold back tears. Instead, I tried to focus on what he was doing; he was a remarkably good driver for someone who apparently never did it. I couldn't find anything to fault him on, and I made a silent game out of it. Trying to find reasons why my boyfriend was a shitty driver may not be considered healthy in terms of a relationship, but it was the only thing keeping me sane.

.

.

Hours later, we'd ended up in front of the TV together. I still didn't feel good, and Carlisle was still very aware of it. Somehow, he managed to coax me into eating soup in the end, and I had to admit I felt better with something in my stomach. I let him mother me; it was kinda comforting, and I could see it eased his worry a little.

We ended up watching movies for the rest of the evening, cuddled on the couch. Under the thick blanket and with my boyfriend's arms around me, lunch seemed far away and unimportant. I hated myself for the drama; Carlisle shouldn't have had to deal with any of that shit. I was worse than a damn two-year-old.

"…thank you for coming with me…"

"Love you." He kissed my neck, shuffling closer to me a little more.

"I want…I want to fix this. I don't want to be like that anymore. I want to be able to go out to dinner with you…" I admitted, guilty.

"We'll figure it out, Garrett," he promised.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a minute, trying to make sense of the logistics of it in my head. "What if…we could go to cafes and stuff, right?...and then go home if I freak out…?" Frowning, I knew there was no way in hell I'd want to face that.

Carlisle's hand tightened on my thigh as I bit my lip. "Would it be easier if we did it at home a few times first? We could have dinner with Alistair and his boyfriend, or Edward and Bella or something? Or is that weird?"

"…no…that's…that's a bit better…I think…" I forced a smile. "And then I can drink too, if I don't have to drive anywhere."

He rolled his eyes at me, chuckling to himself. "There's that as well."

"What's up with you and driving, anyway?" I asked, trying to get away from the uncomfortable subject before I felt sick again. "How long have we been together, and I've never even heard you mention that you have a licence?"

"Maybe I just like be driven everywhere, because I'm a pain in the ass?" he teased.

I shoved him lightly, making his laugh again. "You _are_ a pain in the ass, but I highly doubt that's the reason."

He sighed quietly, his smile fading a little. "When I was in London still, I totalled my car…some asshole drove into me…and then whenever I tried to drive, I'd panic, so I refused to do it…but it actually wasn't that bad…" He glanced up at me. "It was okay with you."

A little confused, I looked him up and down. "You came out unscathed, though?"

He shook his head, untucking his shirt to show me a pretty decent, albeit faded, scar wrapped around his side. "…It wasn't that bad, really. I was lucky I guess; all I got a was a few stitches and some broken ribs."

"How have I never noticed that before?" I asked, almost put out. I couldn't decide whether I was _that_ unobservant, or whether he'd been purposefully trying to hide it.

He rolled his eyes at me. "Because you stop function the minute either of us have our clothes off."

"I do not!" I laughed, using the collar of his jacket to pull him into me. It was partly true, but I'd like to think I could keep my head clear when _I_ was getting undressed.

" _And_ you always turn the lights off when we fuck," he accused simply. The brutality of it had me giggling; I hadn't realised he'd noticed that.

"It makes it more romantic," I teased.

"Would be more romantic if I could see what I was doing," he grumbled sarcastically under his breath, hiding a smile.

"Fine. I'll eat with Alistair, as long as you drive us home. And I'll compromise with you, and we can leave the lamp on."

He was laughing now, unable to stop. "I knew I loved you for a reason."


	28. Chapter 28

I was late to drinks, and they were already in varying stages of intoxication. Alistair opened the door for me, but Carlisle ducked in front of him and pushed him out of the way before he could make any smart comment.

"Sorry," he told me guiltily, glancing back at his flatmate. "They've been drinking since dinner." He was a little unsteady too, but it usually didn't take much more than a few mouthfuls to get my light-weight boyfriend in this state.

I just laughed, and leant down to kiss him. "Sorry I'm late. I got held up at work."

"Your boss was okay, though?" he asked, suddenly worried and remembering the events earlier in the year. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Carlisle, I just needed to get everything finished before the weekend."

He stepped back to let me through the doorway, holding my hand as he led me in to the longue with the others. I recognised most of the other people there, though a few faces were unfamiliar. I assumed them to be the partners of the others, as they seemed to be roughly grouped together. Carlisle introduced them to me, but the names didn't really stick until he pointed out one boy in particular.

"This is Randal, Alistair's boyfriend."

That caught my attention, and Alistair's as well. Randal was friendly enough, laughing at his partner's reaction; Alistair had immediately shifted closer, clearly worried about the opportunity Carlisle had to make a scene.

"Don't be a jerk," he grumbled at him.

"I'm not," he argued, faking innocence. "We can go on double-dates now, Allie."

"I swear to god, I'll drown you in the bath," he threatened, wrapping his arm around Carlisle and pulling him into his side.

Randal glanced away from them and toward me, his eyebrows raised. "Is this normal?"

"Yep," I laughed. "This is what you've got yourself in to."

He chuckled too, and we awkwardly stood in silence for moment while the other two continued to bicker playfully. "How long have you two been together?"

I obliged in his attempt at small talk. "Just over eight months. It seems like forever, though – I wish it was forever."

Smiling a little, he told me; "We're almost three months. I've never really met Carlisle, though; he avoids me when I stay the night, but perhaps that's because the walls are so thin in this house." His face flushed, and Alistair overheard, grumbling at him.

"He doesn't even stay here anymore," Alistair accused, only half kidding as he shoved my boyfriend into me. Carlisle was a little too tipsy to keep his balance, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around him to steady him, chuckling to myself.

"At least you've got Randal to amuse yourself with now, Al," I teased him, laughing a little harder when he rolled his eyes.

Intoxicated to the sappy 'I love you' part of drunk, Alistair couldn't help himself, kissing his partner's cheek. Randal looked a little uncomfortable, holding him at bay with a sorry smile.

Carlisle handed me a drink and took my hand, leading me through the longue and to his room, apparently having had enough of their antics. I was glad to be alone with him for a while; coming straight from work and into a sea of small talk wasn't something I wanted. Setting his drink on his desk, he immediately kissed me, knocking me back against the closed door and tangling his fingers in my hair. He tasted sweet, and I realised – irrelevantly – that he was drinking some kind of cheap cider, as opposed to beer. I liked it, sliding one arm behind him to pull him against my body to deepen the kiss.

"You're drunk," I accused, laughing at his innocent expression.

He shook his head, fidgeting with the collar of my shirt as he looked up at me. "No, I'm not, that's my first bottle," he told me, fighting a smile.

"That doesn't mean you're not drunk," I teased, biting back a groan as his hand brushed the front of my jeans. It hadn't been purposeful – he was just clumsy, but it was enough. I kissed him again, as a distraction. "How was your day, my love?"

He laughed at the name, wrapping his arms around my neck. "My manager quit last week."

Confused as to why he was just telling me now, I just frowned. "They're having to hire someone new?" I asked, wondering what stress this was going to put on him.

He shook his head, his lips against my neck. "Nope."

"Then what?" I chuckled, unsure where he was going with this. A bubble of resentment was going within me, aimed at his t-shirt still being on his body.

Obviously excited, he lost his calm demeanour, hugging me tightly and the kiss became a little harder. "I'm going to be the new manager; they're promoting me…"

Grinning, I squeezed him tightly. "That's fantastic! I'm so proud of you." I kissed him again and again, smiling as he laughed. He tugged my jeans a little, mostly to get close to closer to me. Running my hand down the door behind me, I flicked the lock across, trapping us in.

Seeing me do it, he pulled me backward toward the bed, dragging me down on top of him. Straddling him now, I pulled up his shirt as he unbuckled my pants, stripping him of it and jerking down his jeans. His hands, which had previously been on my thighs, were suddenly on my ass, making me gasp and both of us laugh. "And if I do well, they might move me to one of the city branches instead."

"And that makes you closer to me?" I asked, trying to mentally locate the store.

"Yeah."

.

 **If you don't like badly written sex scenes, abort now. Or, like, skip five paragraphs down to the next break and you'll be safe. I'm actual trash.**

A little uncoordinated, he had problems wriggling out of his clothing until I helped him, which only made us giggle harder. He gently bit my lip, and I tangled one hand in his hair, tugging lightly as his fingers dug into my skin.

I moaned into his mouth, rolling my hips against his. He pulled me down against him, wrapping his legs around mine and allowing me the luxury of grinding against him. I ran my free hand down his body, and he leaned back against the mattress as I started to touch him.

"How long to we have before they miss us?" I asked through gritted teeth, shuddering as his fingers closed around my cock, slowly stroking me.

"Long enough," he mumbled, his breath starting to catch. Reaching behind him to grab a condom out of the bedside table, he tossed it to me, squirming uncomfortably when I left him with no friction in order to open it.

Leaning over him again, I brought our lips together again, smiling when I felt his muscles tense as I started to prepare him. I had him squirming under me in seconds. "I'm so proud of you," I murmured to him again, kissing his neck as he sunk his teeth into his lip to keep from making a sound.

"Love you," he whispered back, pushing down against me as I eased into him. We easily found a rhythm, and our kisses were sweet with the alcohol he had been drinking. My hands were tangled in his hair, and he arched his back under me as we worked together.

.

.

"Can we go get food?" It was almost a complaint, and it made me laugh as I looked up at him from the bed. Carlisle was quite drunk, and hadn't managed to find enough clothing yet to make it out into the longue with the others. For some reason beyond me, he had decided it was an appropriate time to brush his teeth though, which made it all the funnier to me.

"I can't drive; I've been drinking," I reminded him, chuckling and holding up my near empty-can as proof.

"But can we walk?" he whined, reminding me a little of Kate.

I rolled my eyes at him. "You have to put on enough clothing to leave the room, first."

After the incentive, he managed to find his jeans and get dressed again. "How drunk do I have to get you before you come with me? I'll buy you ice-cream…"

"Give me another shot, and we'll go," I reasoned, smirking as he tripped. "If you think you can walk that far, that is."

Laughing, he stumbled out into the kitchen. I lay back against the bed and listened to see if he fell. I heard Alistair greet him, tease him, yell at him for spilling shit, and then he was back beside me. He waited patiently while I obediently swallowed it, before grabbing my hand and jerking me to my feet. It made the room spin as the alcohol hit my bloodstream, and I held onto the wall to steady myself.

Threading his fingers through mine, he pulled be toward the front door.

.

.

My head was throbbing the instant I opened my eyes, and I immediately groaned and folded my arm back over my face to block of the light. Despite sleeping like a log, I felt like shit and my limbs were heavy. I rolled over, expecting to be alone in bed, but my arm brushed against Carlisle as I moved. Instinctively, I wound my arms around him, pulling him back into my chest.

He stirred slightly, wincing at the brightness of the room and burying his face in the blankets to escape the sun. I couldn't repress a smirk despite my sorry state; this was the first time I'd seem Carlisle knocked out by a hangover.

I was more than happy to stay curled up in bed. It was bordering on lunch time, and moving still seemed like quite a task. "What'd you make me drink?" I mumbled to him, my voice too loud for my own ears.

He shrugged, humming quietly in response. I kissed the back of his neck, and then relaxed into the mattress. It was easy to fall asleep again.

The next time I opened my eyes, it was to the smell of coffee. "Here, Gar." Like some kind of saint, Carlisle handed me a couple of aspirin and a mug. His hair was wet from showering, and I realised he must have been up for a while.

"Thanks…" I wriggled up the bed to lean against the headboard, downing the pills and forcing the scolding liquid down my throat. "How's your head?"

"Manageable." He climbed over my legs to sit on the bed next to me. He still looked tired, and I felt guilty for being glad that I wasn't the only one who looked like shit today.

"So, manager, when do you start your new position?" I pushed his leg lightly, smiling when he smiled.

"This week. I have like a training day first, and then it's just the paper work."

Sliding my arm around his waist, I kissed his cheek. "I'm so proud of you."

"I'm kinda nervous," he admitted, fidgeting a little. "But it means I don't have to work as many hours…and I can do some it from home, so I don't need to sit in that weird little office all day."

"We can spend more time in bed, then?" I teased.

"Yeah, if you wanna watch me type all day," he rolled his eyes, nudging me with his shoulder.

"It's better than the job I already have," I grumbled.

.

.

 **CentauRita, bad jokes in retaliation ;) )  
What do you call an alligator that wears a vest?  
An investigator…**

… **I'll go home.**


	29. Chapter 29

**Quite a long (and hopefully sweet) one this time I think. I couldn't divide it up nicely for the next chapter so I left it all in one piece. I did check the grammar, but I've played around with the story quite a bit, so there might be a few mistakes that escaped, sorry!**

.

.

The next time I was minding Kate, I made sure I had Carlisle around. He was still nervous around her, not one hundred per cent sure how to deal with a child, but I think she was growing on him. She spent the entire day repeating everything he said, still trying to mimic his accent, and it was making both of us laugh. Carmen had told me that she had kept doing even after she went home last time, and I couldn't imagine this making it die down any. By the looks of it, we'd have a parrot on our hands for some time to come.

The park seemed like a good idea after we'd taken her out for lunch; she could run off her sugar rush, and hopefully wouldn't become irritable later in the afternoon. I headed over towards the tree I usually sat under to watch her, but Carlisle tugged on my hand, pulling me toward the playground.

"Come on the swings with me." He was already giggling, which was never a good sign.

"We're adults," I laughed, not quite willing to let myself go enough to play on a playground. I hadn't done it since before high school; climbing through the little structures always made me feel big and clumsy, and I couldn't imagine that feeling being any different now. My boyfriend was petite though, so I couldn't imagine him having any issues with it.

"Adulthood is only a social construct," he rolled his eyes. "Come."

"Carlisle-"

He wasn't taking no for an answer, grinning as he took me over to the swings, easily jumping in to one of the seats. "You know you want to," he teased me, rolling his eyes at my hesitance. "It's _fun_ , Garrett. _Please_ tell me you liked this as a child?"

"Well, yeah, I liked it then, but-"

"Get on the damn swing or I swear to god, I'll smother you while you sleep." He was laughing far too much for it to be vaguely threatening, and I leaned forward to kiss him lightly before getting into the seat next to him.

Pushing myself back and forth with my feet, it was kind of fun. I certainly didn't hate it. Watching how happy it made Carlisle made the experience a little sweeter as well. "You're cute," I accused, chuckling. "Do you want to go get a Christmas tree after this? We can take Kate and it might be nice?"

He frowned a little, thinking about it for a moment. "To bring inside?" he asked sceptically. "I've never understood why people feel the need to do that."

"Yeah," I nodded. "It's tradition."

"It's _weird._ "

I watched him as he nibbled his lip; he really didn't look that happy about the idea. "Don't over think it, Carlisle, it's just a plant," I reminded him, reaching over to rub his leg. "…and I think it's a step in the right direction for your tolerance of Christmas."

"But it'll be in the house until Christmas day, right? It'll be there the whole month…"

"It's just a tree, but yeah, it will. Look, why don't we just go and visit the tree farm, and if it's the worst thing in the world, we don't have to bring one home. And you don't have to touch them." I felt like I was reasoning with a child, and I was struggling not to become patronising. I was sure he knew it too, and he was trying to be cooperative with me despite how disruptive it was for him.

He slowly agreed, shifting uncomfortably. He'd stopped his swing, visibly disturbed now. "…yeah…okay…"

"It'll be fine," I assured him, forcing myself not to grumbled. "And Kate loves it."

.

.

Carlisle was on edge the moment he saw the sign pointing into the tree farm. My niece was babbling insanely; she's become unbearably excited the second I'd told her what we were doing. Eleazar didn't like live trees in the house, so every year they made do with a fake one; the only reason I ever bothered to put up a tree when I lived on my own was so that the kid got the joy of picking one out. It was something I'd always loved as child.

I held his hand as we walked in the gates, partly worried that he might bolt, and partly wanting to comfort him. With the other, I held onto a hyperactive child.

"Can we get a big one this year, uncle Garrett?" she asked excitedly, tugging my fingers.

"It has to fit in my car, Katie, not too big," I warned, already dreading the pine needles that were going to be everywhere for the next few weeks. They smelt wonderful though, and I took a deep breath to savour it.

My boyfriend apparently had an aversion to it, and was holding his breath as much as possible.

"Stop it," I murmured to him, shaking his hand a little. "Don't be overdramatic."

"I didn't say anything," he snapped back, instantly defensive.

"But your all tense and prickly," I pointed out, rolling my eyes as I wrapped my arm around his waist and rubbed his side.

"I'll wait in the car, then," he grumbled, trying to pull away.

I hesitated before replying, swallowing anything too harsh to avoid a repeat of the last Christmas related incident. "I want you to stay, but just say the words, Carlisle, and we'll go home," I reminded him. I let Kate loose as he nodded, keeping an eye on her as she charged down the rows. "You're not going to catch some deadly disease by breathing the air here, by the way."

"I don't like the smell of them."

"It's good," I argued. "Don't be so bias; if nothing else, its got to bring back memories." Already I was nostalgic, despite only being here for five minutes. It took a second for me to realise my mistake, and then it was too late to take it back. Thankfully, Carlisle didn't react _too_ badly to my slip.

"That's why I don't like it; it smells like fucking rejection." He'd tried to joke about it, but it had hit too close to home and become serious, despite him forcing a laugh.

Giving up, I sighed heavily. "Do you want to go home? I'll bring Kate back later."

He shook his head quickly. "No, I promised you I'd try…I just…I really hate it…"

"I know, Carlisle," I assured him, pulling him into a tight hug and kissing the top of his head. "I'm happy you came with us."

.

.

It took my niece forever to find one she was happy with, and then it was only because I pushed her into picking one _now_ so my boyfriend didn't lose his shit in the middle of a forest of Christmas trees. He had absolutely had it by the time we were back in the car, at his wits end with the whole experience.

"You okay?" I asked cautiously, placing my hand on his leg as we pulled out of the carpark.

"If you make me touch a single decoration, I'm going to puke," he warned, only half kidding as he closed his fingers around mine.

"You don't have to help," I assured him.

"But you would like me to…"

"Well, yeah, preferably, of course I would, but if enough is enough, I'm not going to force you to ether."

The first real issue we ran into was getting the damn thing off of the roof of my car and up the many stair to my apartment. Thankfully, my niece had listened to my instructions and it was fairly small, but it still required two people to move it. Carlisle wanted to be as far away from it as possible, but eventually sucked it up enough to help me. He kept his distance while me and Kate set about dragging out the decorations from my closet though.

"Can I convince you to untangle lights for me?" I asked after he'd been silent for a good twenty minutes. As soon as we'd come home, he take shelter across the room from this three, his legs crossed underneath him and his hands in his lap.

Unsure, he nodded slowly and unfolded himself from the couch, taking the knotted wires from me. He kept his head down as he loosened the knots, biting his lip and keeping his concentration on the task at hand.

"Carlisle!" Kate jumped at him suddenly, shoving a bunch of baubles at him with a grin on her face. She was oblivious, but I watched his discomfort skyrocket. "Your turn!"

Frozen to the spot, he wearily looked up at the tree. He forced a smile at my niece though, taking them from her. "Okay, Katie, come on then." Sliding onto the floor, he crawled over to be beside her as she roughly slung ornaments on the tree. He was visibly uncomfortable, but carefully hooked them over the branches anyway.

I couldn't quite hear the soft banter between them – something to do with colour coding, god bless my boyfriend. Instead, I quietly got to my feet to find my phone, taking a picture of the two of them before Carlisle caught me. I figured I could blame it on wanting something to send to Carmen if he brought it up, instead of explaining that seeing him with my family made me happier than anything else.

I sat back on the couch and watched the two of them together, rubbing my face to cover my smile as he picked her up so she could reach the higher branches. I kept my mouth shut as they struggled to get the lights and tinsel on, seeming as they really should have done it first, because it was so fucking adorable to watch.

"Go get the star for the top, Katie, and then I think we're finished," he told her, laughing as he set her on her feet. Apparently, any hesitance that he'd felt toward my niece or the tree had dissolved, and I was trying to decide when he'd started calling her 'Katie'. Again, adorable.

While they were distracted, I pulled the curtains closed, waiting until they'd finished before plugging in the lights. Kate cheered, and my boyfriend recoiled before laughing and getting to his feet.

"It's pretty," he murmured to me as I stood beside him, smiling as I rubbed the small of his back.

I kissed his cheek, and he rested his head against my shoulder as we watched Kate fuss over the tree. "It's supposed to be, love."

"You sound like your mother," he teased softly, not quite rebuking me as he leaned into my side.

"Are you feeling okay?" I asked, trying to gauge his anxiety level.

"…it was kinda fun…" he admitted, a little shy.

Pleased, I turned to face him, hugging him tightly. "Good." For the first time, I was starting to have hope that he might actually be able to enjoy Christmas after all.

.

.

I knew he was happy with his new job, but it was definitely more stressful than the last one he had. He was sleepy whenever he came over, but the cuddles were nice anyway and I liked having him with me, even if he was unconscious about five minutes after he came in the door. And he was with me a lot more now, which was even better. Several times, I had the next big question caught on the tip of my tongue, but I was nervous he wouldn't want that; he always seemed content to go back to his own flat. Tonight was going to be one of those nights; he was going home to Alistair, and I was sleeping alone. Despite being still at work, I was already sulking about it.

My heart was in my throat and I felt sick the instant I saw his number on my screen. He _never_ rang me at work. I answered in a hurry, but forced myself to take a deep breath. "Hey, Carlisle, are you okay? What happened?"

"Nothing, Gar, everything's fine. I know it's last minute, but can I be with you tonight? Please? I can bring food if you want?" he asked. Something was off, but I couldn't pick what it was.

"Yeah, of course you can." I breathed a sigh of relief, but still wasn't convinced. "Are you sure everything's alright?" I wasn't supposed to see him until tomorrow night, so I wasn't sure what would have pushed him into asking to stay at four-thirty in the evening. I wasn't complaining, but it still had me on edge.

"Everything's fine," he repeated, laughing nervously. "…I'm just tired. And I miss you. And it's not a good mix; it makes me needy as hell."

"I'll see you tonight, then," I chuckled. "And don't worry about dinner, I'll sort something out."

"Love you."

"Love you too, baby," I teased.

.

.

'Tired' didn't cover it. He practically stumbled into my hug, relaxing as I wrapped my arms around him. "Missed you," he mumbled, kissing my neck.

"I missed you too, but I didn't want to sound clingy," I admitted, leaning down to bring our lips together.

"I like clingy, then." He reached up to knot his arms around my neck, letting me tug him closer.

I laughed, and led him into my apartment. We had dinner together, and then settled down to watch movies – or I watched movies, and Carlisle tried not to fall asleep as he cuddled into my side. "You're staying with me tonight?" I asked, kissing the top of his head as I rubbed his shoulder.

"…I can't…I just wanted to see you for a bit, but I still have to finish that…" he mumbled, shaking his head and gesturing to his laptop on the table.

"You can finish it here, can't you?" I suggested, smiling at the way he melted against me.

"I'll never get anything done with you around me, Garrett…I'm really tired…" he told me with a guilty smile.

I didn't see how the two things correlated, but it didn't matter, really. "How's going home going to help, hmm? I can keep you awake," I teased, nudging him with my shoulder to prove my point.

"Because you're warm, and it's making me sleepy," he laughed, rolling his eyes at me. "And I have to get it done before work tomorrow morning." Unable to help it, he yawned. I could see the exhaustion wearing thin, and he'd be a wreck tomorrow if he tried to stay up any longer.

I slid my arms around his middle, pulling him toward me. "Can you do it in the morning? We can get up early and you can finish it then?"

He looked unsure and thought for a moment, but nodded anyway, and I tucked him against my side, kissing his cheek. "Maybe…"

Shifting in my seat, I moved so he was lying with his head in my lap, and I ran my fingers repetitively through his hair. I wasn't tired yet, but I could see he was exhausted and hoped he might doze off while we were like this. It only took a few minutes of me rubbing his arm and his back before he fell asleep.

An hour or so later, I deemed it late enough for bed. I hesitated before nudging him awake, though. If I did wake him up, I couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't become anxious again, and then he wouldn't sleep.

I carefully moved under him, contemplating letting him stay where he was for the night, but he was already cold and I doubted he would be comfortable, even if I did get him a blanket. Deciding against it, I made him get up.

"Bed time," I told him as he glanced up at me.

"…What's the time?" he mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his face.

"Ten o'clock. Let's go."

He took my hand as he stood up, steadying himself and squeezing my fingers. "Sorry I was useless company tonight."

"You just being here is enough," I assured him. "Do you want to get changed, or-"

"Fuck that," he laughed, running his fingers through his hair to get it off his face and already half under the blankets. "This is fine."

Rolling my eyes at him, I stripped down and got under the blankets beside him. He immediately shuffled closer to cuddle into me, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around him.

"I can't sleep without you," he admitted.

"Me neither, actually," I sighed. "Although, not having someone attached to me all night and being allowed to move my legs is a bit of a treat." It was teasing; I loved having this close to me, and he knew it.

"I did warn you I was needy before I came," he reminded me, kissing my cheek.

"Hmm…it's nice. You're like a human hot water bottle." I leaned down to bring our lips together, and leaned back into the pillows.

.

.

"Thank you." His voice was muffled by my clothing, his head on my chest and his arms around my waist, both of us just about asleep. By his silence, I'd assumed he was already unconscious.

"For what?" I ran my hand down his back, squeezing him closer against my side.

"For making me happy." He kissed my neck, cuddling into me.

My heart cramped a little, and I rolled over to face him, keeping my arms around him. "You deserve happiness, Carlisle."

"So do you."

"You make me happy too."


	30. Chapter 30

**30 CHAPTERS! I figured that this deserves to be a mile-stone chapter for the boys, so that's what it is. In celebration and apology for updating so late, I'm also posting a second chapter today as well :) Thank you for putting up with me for so long, I'm still a little shocked people are reading this, if i'm honest!**

 **As usual, I've edited, but there's most likely still mistakes.**

.

.

The next morning, four AM, came far too quickly. Still sleepy and uncomfortable from sleeping in his clothes, Carlisle wasn't really functioning that well. I made us both coffee, and sat across from him at the table while he worked. My eyelids were heavy, but my plan was to go back to bed after I dropped him off at work, so I wasn't too concerned about my own lack of sleep. My boyfriend looked pretty shattered, though.

I leaned forward, resting my head in my hands as I listened to him type. The rhythmic sound of it wasn't encouraging me to stay awake, and I was really battling it.

"Go back to sleep, Gar, I'm okay by myself," he murmured to me, reaching over to rub my hand.

"I'm alright; I'll drive you to work," I argued, trying to sound more conscious than I actually was.

"I can walk, your rest is more important."

"No, Carlisle, it's fine, I promise." Letting my eyes drift closed for a few seconds at a time. It was a mistake. The next time I glanced up at Carlisle, noting his silence, he was gone and light was streaming into my apartment through my curtains. Fuck.

My gaze landed on a note taped to my half-empty coffee cup, and my heart immediately melted.

' _Breakfast is in the oven. See you tonight, love you :)'_

I groaned, guilty. He was so sweet it was killing me. Quickly sending him a thankyou text, I went and retrieved the food. Sulking in bed until he came home again seemed like a good option, so I retreated down the hallway to my room. Both of us were off for the weekend, and I planned to kidnap him for the entire time. I knew he'd probably want to sleep for the majority of it, but just having him home with me was more than enough.

Finishing the food in front of me, I lay down again, folding my arms over my face to block out the light and sighing heavily. Surprisingly, going to sleep was fairly easy, despite not having my boy next to me. I put it down to the stupid hour that we both woke up.

It was after two in the afternoon by the time I opened my eyes. The sun had moved enough that it was no longer on my face, and I let my eyes adjust before glancing around the room. I hoped Carlisle wasn't too tired at work; I wasn't even sure if he'd gotten everything finished in time.

.

.

There wasn't much food left in my cupboards, but I was determined to make us both a decent meal for once. The search continued for a few minutes before I surrendered. A supermarket trip couldn't be avoided. I knew it would do me some good, but it didn't make me hate the chore any less than I already did; I really didn't appreciate the stress of the other shoppers.

It wasn't until I'd loaded the bags into the car, and was stuck at a red traffic light to be alone with my thoughts, that I realised I'd unconsciously been shopping for two people on the assumption that my boy would be with me every night for the next week. The idea brought a guilty smile to my face.

Fuck, I loved him.

Seeming as Carlisle would still be gone another few hours and I had to entertain myself, I dug out a new recipe, deciding I may as well put in a bit of effort. We hadn't eaten anything that was vaguely fancy for months – not after we got comfortable enough with each other to not care anymore. It'd be nice for him to come home to, if nothing else.

Time allowed me to make a desert as well. Not long after, he sent me a text, telling me he had to stay another hour or two later, and I became fidgety. Somewhat spur of the moment, I dug out the only table cloth I owned, setting places and sitting a candle in the middle of the table. If I couldn't take him to a nice restaurant for dinner, we could at least pretend for a little bit. It also had me wondering if this all was maybe a bit too cheesy, but if he hated it, we could always forget about it and eat in front of the TV like we normally did.

I opened the door for him as I heard him trying to find the right key, and the look of utter surprise on his face when I confronted him made me chuckle. "How was your day?"

Reaching up to wrap his arms around my neck, he placed a gentle kiss on my lips. "It was fine. What's all this about?"

Squeezing his waist, I pulled him inside. "Well, I can't eat out, so we may as well eat in?"

"You're very sweet," he murmured, slipping his thumb under the collar of my t-shirt to teased the back of my neck.

I smiled, pleased that he thought so. "Come, you need to eat before the food gets cold."

"Okay, chef," he teased, smiling as he squeezed me again before he let go.

Turns out candle-lit dinners were cuter than I gave them credit for. It made us exponentially more flirty with each other, and we managed to find a bottle of wine to share. I was loving every second of it, but by the time we'd finish desert, I wasn't enjoying being on the other side of the table from my boyfriend.

It was decided that a night of movies was in order, and that they best be watched on my laptop in bed rather than the TV in the longue. Carlisle was very much in favour of settling in for the night. It was hard to concentrate on the film through his kisses and teasing touches, but he was obviously too tired to go any further than that.

An hour in, and he'd curled up against my side, starting to fall asleep as I rubbed his back. "Sorry, Gar…I'll make it up to you tomorrow."

"Go to sleep, Carlisle, it's what you need," I assured him, squeezing him affectionately before letting him go so he could get comfortable. Snuggling into the pillows, I wrapped the blankets around both of us, kissing his forehead as he moulded himself to the shape of my body. "I just like having you here."

.

.

I woke up to the sound of rain on the roof and the jug boiling in the kitchen. I was smiling at the ceiling, wondering how the sound of someone else in my house could be so comforting. It wasn't _just_ someone else, though; it was my Carlisle, which made all the difference. I never wanted to live alone again.

It was quite late in the morning, which meant he'd been up for a while. Judging by the book he'd left on his side of the bed, he'd stayed with me for a while after he'd woken up, and it warmed my heart. _His side of the bed._ Fuck me. Just under ten months together, and I was head-over-heels in love with him.

I sat up, rubbing my face to try and collect my thoughts. My gaze landed on the book again, and I realised it wasn't a novel, as normal, but rather a note book, a pencil dropped next to it on the bed. It was an invasion of privacy to look, I knew, and I wondered how mad at me he'd be if I peeked; he wouldn't show me his drawings, normally, almost embarrassed of the habit.

I kept track of the noises in the kitchen, assuring myself that I wouldn't get caught out if I could hear him. Unable to resist the temptation, I picked it up, crossing my legs underneath myself and setting it in my lap. I carefully thumbed through the delicate pages, biting my lip to keep from smiling; I recognised a few of the scenes as interpretations of an assortment of children's book, similar to what he'd painted on Kate's cast all those weeks ago. They were all perfect, of course, even the ones he hadn't finished yet. I couldn't place some of them, though, but maybe I just didn't read enough.

His voice pulled me from me contemplations, and I glanced up, guilty. "Did your mother never teach you to ask before touching?" His voice was soft, despite his teasing, and he was kind of shy as he approached me. I still expected to be scolded, but instead he sat in front of me, tilting my chin up with his thumb and gently bringing our lips together.

"I'm sorry; I was curious, and you never show me," I admitted, brushing his hair off his face with my fingertips.

"Only because they're no good," he mumbled, glancing down.

"They're perfect, Carlisle," I shook my head, kissing his forehead.

"…I used to want to illustrate a children's book and…"

"And that's what these ones are?" I asked, turning back to the scenes that I couldn't recognise. They were towards the blank pages, so I guessed it was still quite a relevant dream, despite his wording.

"Yeah…" Fidgeting with the edge of his t-shirt, he continued to let me go through it, still quite shy about it.

"You haven't told me about this before?"

"…Because it's stupid…" He nibbled his lip, risking a glance up at me.

I set the book aside, winding my arms around his waist to pull him into my lap, pressing kisses against his neck. "It'll never be stupid, my love," I murmured to him, humming in pleasure as he nuzzled into me.

"Do you want coffee? I can make you breakfast, if you would like?" he asked, wrapping his arms around my neck and offering me a shy smile.

Stealing another kiss, I agreed, dragging myself out of bed to follow him down the hallway. Standing next to him at the bench, I cut and measured everything, while Carlisle heated a pan and pre-set the oven. It was too tempting, but I knew it was making me slow; I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He was still wearing what he had slept in and his hair was messy, continuously falling in his face no matter how many times he brushed it back. It was distracting; he was irresistibly cute like this.

.

.

"Your taste in music is shit, by the way." He nodded toward the radio, not in favour of the station I'd picked, apparently.

I waited until he had set down the plate he was drying – on the pretence of doing this morning's dishes – before grabbing his hands. "That's rude," I teased, pressing a kiss on his forehead.

"I'm doing _your_ dishes," he laughed, reaching up to bring our lips together.

"Hmm, you're a good little maid." I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into me and taking the tea towel out of his hands, tucking it into his back pocket. "Move in with me?"

"Free labour?" he teased, still giggling.

"Maybe, or maybe I love you and want to wake up next to you every morning." Unexplainably nervous, I smiled anyway, running my fingers through his hair to brush it off his face and get him to look at me. "Move in with me?"

"…Can you tolerate me all day though?" he asked hesitantly, realising I was serious. He glanced up to meet my eyes, biting his lip.

Unsure about his anxiety, I tried to joke with him again. "Carlisle, you're the least annoying person I've ever met. And, I grew up with Eleazar; of course I can." I kissed him again, rubbing the tops of his arms. "Move in with me?"

Carlisle nodded, jumping at me and wrapping his arms around my neck to pull himself closer. "I love you."

Laughing, I squeezed him tightly. "I love you too." Both of us were grinning, and we stood like that in the kitchen for a while, just enjoying being close to each other. I rested my chin on his shoulder, running my hand down his back to shift him closer. "What are you going to tell Alistair?"

"He'll understand," he mumbled into my clothing. "Besides, he spends so much time with Randal and I'm with you so much that we barely see each other anyway."

"You'll have to start having coffee dates with him instead of me," I chuckled, kissing the top of his head.

He laughed quietly and nodded, lightly teasing the small of my back with his fingertips. "We'll see. He's clingy enough that he'll break into your apartment and come to bed with us without permission."

I rolled my eyes. " _Our_ apartment, now."

"I like the sound of that."


	31. Chapter 31

**The second chapter for today.**

 **Something a little more 'M' rated in celebration of 30 chapters ;)** **Aside from a bit of entertainment, this chapter doesn't actually add to the story line, so don't read it if you're not comfortable. Thanks for sticking with me this far!**

.

.

It took hardly any time at all to get Carlisle moved; apparently he wasn't a collector of shit like I was. We helped Alistair pack too; deciding he didn't want to find another flatmate, he was throwing in the towel and moving in with Randal. It helped to ease the guilt my boyfriend felt toward leaving, and made the experience that much sweeter.

Stupidly, we slept on the couch that night. My neck was going to kill me, but the forced closeness was nice and with Carlisle lying in front of me, and my arms around his waist, I was acutely aware of every breath he took. He shuffled back into me, snuggling in closer, and I squeezed him a little tighter.

"I love you," I whispered to him, kissing his neck.

Awkwardly, he managed to wriggle enough to roll over and face me without falling off the couch. "I love you too," he whispered back, gently bringing our lips together.

I knotted my fingers together against his back, holding onto him, and he leaned his head against my shoulder. Still wanting more contact, he slid his knees between mine, running one hand through my hair.

"It's getting long," he murmured, smiling a little.

"I know," I chuckled. "But we both know I'm lazy, and that cutting it will only happen once it's a real pain in the ass."

He laughed quietly, rolling his eyes at me and stealing another kiss. "You look like nobody owns you," he teased gently, sleepy as he cuddled into me.

"You know I belong to you, Carlisle," I teased, to which he laughed a little.

He hesitated, then started to giggle again, and I knew whatever he was about to come out with was either going to be rude, or very cheesy. "We belong _together_ , Garrett," he corrected innocently.

"I will throw you off of this couch, Carlisle Cullen," I chuckled, and he moulded himself around my shape to stop me doing it.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would." I tipped him backwards, but grabbed him before he could fall. He let out a surprised squeak and shoved me back, clinging to me. Settling us again, I gave him a gentle squeeze. "Go to sleep, my love, and I'll throw you off when you wake up," I assured him.

.

.

I was woken up the next morning by Carlisle trying to wriggle out of my arms. He'd tried not to wake me, being careful not to jostle me too much, but because we were so entangled with in each other, he couldn't help it. I tightened my hold on him, sucking him back against me. "Where are you off to?" I asked him softly, kissing my way up his neck and along his jaw. He gasped in shock at my abrupt movement, and quickly covered my hands with his own. "Trying to escape, Carlisle?"

He laughed quietly, and squirmed a little in my arms. "I'll be back in a minute."

"What if I want to keep you, hmm?" I locked my arms around him, squeezing him a little tighter.

"Garrett," he was still laughing, but was getting a little more panicky now.

"What?" Confused, I let my hold become gentler, not wanting to upset him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just…I really need a wee, let me go, you're making it worse-"

That was all the permission I needed to torture him, pinning him back against the couch. "So, you're not going to mind if I keep you here for a while?" I asked, bringing our lips together. As first he kissed back, tangling his free hand in my hair, but he groaned quietly.

"I'm going to mind if you make me pee my pants," he grumbled, fighting a smile as he tried to shift. "Gar…"

"Then we'll have to shower together, won't we?" I teased, releasing his hand and running my fingers through his hair to get it off his face.

"…um…we can do that anyway?" he asked, his fight for freedom becoming a little more frantic and his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink.

Not wanting to cause him any embarrassment or too much discomfort, I released him and let him go, chuckling as he bolted immediately. I rolled over onto my back, folding my arms around behind my head to rub my neck; I'd been right, it was aching liking a bitch. Moaning, I dragged myself into the kitchen to find some kind of pain relief, rolling my eyes at the time – six AM. There was no way I was staying awake at this hour, and I made my way to _bed_ this time. About thirty seconds after I got comfortable, I felt Carlisle's weight hit the bed, and he crawled up the mattress to lie beside me. "Better?" I asked, wrapping my arm around him and smiling at the way he cuddled into me.

"Yeah," he mumbled, setting into me. "You're such a dick."

"Are you still going to shower with me, though?" I slid my hand down his back, squeezing his ass and making him jump into me with a quiet gasp.

"Y-yeah, of course." He kissed my throat, his lips brushing my throat as he knotted his fingers in my shirt to pull himself closer. "But you have to get up first."

"Or, we could just stay here." I carefully rolled onto my back, holding his shoulders so he shifted with me. Our lips met, and his tongue darted out to meet mine. He used one hand to support himself as he leaned over me, the other tangled in my hair and caressing the side of my face. I slid my fingers over his shirt and up his body, lightly trailing my fingernails up his sides, smiling when he shivered.

Sliding upwards so his body covered mine, he supported himself on his elbows, moaning against my lips. He rested his head against my shoulder as I rubbed his thighs, slowing edging my hands up higher and higher. He unexpectedly dropped his hand between my legs, palming me lightly and making me curse at him. I rolled my hips against his, my fingers digging into his skin as I arched my back.

The movement cause the muscles in my shoulders to tighten painfully, and I groaned. "My neck really hurts from sleeping on the couch," I whined to Carlisle when he glanced down at me to see what the problem was.

"Keep it still, then, sweetheart," he teased, almost condescending, his hands on either side of my throat to stabilise it and knotting his fingers across my spine. "Unless you're fucking me with your neck, we'll be fine."

That was good enough for me, and I teased his waist as I snuck my hands under his t-shirt. The warmth of the skin was nice against my fingers, which were rather cold, but he squeaked and jumped into me when I touched him. Chuckling, I drew my hands back. "Sorry, you're nice and warm."

"I _was_ nice and warm," he corrected playfully, rolling his eyes but leaning down to kiss me lightly. He squeezed closer to me as I slipped my arm behind him, and I tried to rest my chin on his shoulder, only to have the same painful twang roll through again. Carlisle frowned at my grumbling as I leaned back against the pillows, placing a kiss on my forehead. "You've taken pain killers?"

"Yeah…it's only because I let us stay on the couch; I knew it would happen…I know it's my fault, but it hurts like a bitch," I complained childishly, fed up.

"Maybe a shower would be good then? The hot water might help it?" He caught my hand, kissing the back of my fingers. "And, your hands wouldn't be so damn cold then."

I groaned and rubbed my face. "I don't think it will help, unless you come with me," I told him, trying to appear innocent.

"Oh, for god's sake," he laughed. "I should have seen that coming." He didn't give me an actual answer, untucking my clothing and unbuttoning my shirt instead.

"So, that's a yes, then?" I teased, kissing him when he was close enough.

"If you're not capable of showering alone, I highly doubt you're able to undress yourself." He was biting his lip to keep from laughing, and it was making me giggle. His fingertips were icy against my chest as he fumbled with the buttons on my shirt, his shaking giving away that he wanted this as badly as I did.

For once, I kept my mouth shut; I wasn't complaining if he was going do all the work. His hands felt wonderful as they brushed over my body, and I was curious about how far he could get before I'd have to move. As he pressed soft kisses against my jaw and down my throat, I tangled my fingers in his hair, tilting my chin up as much as I was able to.

He pulled back too soon, placing his hand on my chest. "Go start the water, and I'll go get the towels."

I sat up as he darted out of the room, pulling my shirt off and stripping before wandering into the bathroom and turning on the shower. I was under the water before Carlisle appeared again, repressing a sigh as the heat seeped into my aching muscles.

Carlisle slipped a little as he jumped in with me, and I wrapped my arms around him to keep him steady, stealing a kiss at the same time. His hands landed on my chest as he let out a surprised gasp, both of us laughing at his shock. After catching his balance, his fingers slid up to my shoulders, gently kneading the knots free, and this time I couldn't stop the groan. He could only behave himself so long, though, and suddenly his lips were against mine.

Although he was being careful not to pull me anywhere it hurt, I'd given up nursing my self-inflicted wounds and grabbed his waist, pulling him flush against me. That was the end of his self-control, and he wrapped both arms around my neck, shifting his body against mine and gently tugging my hair as I moaned into his mouth. It was hurting a bit, but the pleasure far outweighed the pain.

I rolled my hips against his, sliding one hand down his back to press him closer against me. Being a few inches shorter than me, he slipped against the wet floor whenever he tried to reach up to kiss me, and ended up falling into me every time he tried. I pinned him up against the wall, keeping him steady and letting my hands wander down his body. His fingers dug into my biceps as my hands reached his hips, and he leaned his cheek against my shoulder as I started to touch him, his breath hot against my neck.

"I love you."

"Is that your version of dirty talk?" I teased, chuckling to myself. He managed to collect his thoughts enough to roll his eyes at me, trailing his hand down my chest. Groaning as his palm brushed over my cock, I automatically jerked my hips. He ignored it, though, teasing my thighs instead. There was not a doubt in my mind that he was driving me insane on purpose, and I was refusing to beg for it. Jerk.

Hoping he might give in without me saying anything, I kissed him again, almost grumbling when his hand returned to my shoulder, the fucking tease. Still, I held my ground. It distracted me enough, though, that I released my hold on him a little, and he slipped forward. I started to laugh, but cut myself off with a groan as my erection brushed his stomach, _finally_ giving me a little bit of friction. He'd moaned too, but I glanced down at him, I realised it was more out of pain than pleasure, having hit his head against the wall as the moment created the same sensation for him.

Before I could get any teasing remark out, he started to stroke me to get me to shut up. It did little to keep me quiet, but I couldn't make fun of him, at least, far too caught up in the pleasure of it. I decided I might as well play fair, and returned the favour. His hand faltered, and I kissed him gently, knowing I had him now.

"Watch out for the wall this time," I reminded him as he sunk his teeth into his lip. "I don't want to have to explain to a doctor that you have a concussion because we fucked in a shower." My teasing went over his head, and his fingernails dug into my back as I increased the pace, my movements becoming a little more urgent now. I was glad we were under the water; I was starting to sweat, and we would both need to cool off after this.

"…Garrett…" It wasn't quite a curse, though I thought it was supposed to be. He sucked in a sharp breath, and I leaned down to kiss him as I drove him over the edge. As soon as he had recovered, he started to touch me again, and I groaned through clenched teeth, rolling my hips against his hand.

His lips worked their way along my jaw, and I tilted my head back as he kissed my neck, his teeth occasionally grazing my skin. I wasn't sure what part of him to grab as heat surged through my body, settling on holding his waist and focusing on breathing. "Fuck, Carlisle…jesus…" A second later, and I was riding out my orgasm, unable to stop another moan. This had to have been the best fucking shower I'd ever taken.

I rested my forehead against his as we caught our breath again, bringing my hand to rest against the side of his face and brushing my thumb over the sweet flush in his cheeks. "You're so fucking gorgeous like this," I whispered to him, dipping my head slightly to capture his lips as his eyes met mine. "I love you."

"I love you too," he murmured, cupping the back of my neck to close the space between us.

Slipping my arm behind, I squeezed him tightly, repressing a smug smile. Asking him to move in was the best decision I'd ever made.


	32. Chapter 32

**As usual, mind the grammar mistakes :)**

.

.

Over the next week or so, we developed an easy pattern with each other, taking turns at cooking dinner depending on our days off, and unconsciously deciding who would take the rubbish out and who would get milk when we ran out. It was domestic bliss.

Carlisle's new work time table was a little hectic though, and sometimes he would be gone before I woke up and not back by the time I came home. Whenever I worked on his days off, I was bitter about it. I started coming home during my lunch breaks on those days, just so we could spend some time together. The half an hour it allowed us was always a nice break in the day, and he usually made me lunch before I arrived to ensure that I still had time to eat.

Uncharacteristically, Carlisle slept longer than I did on our first day off together, and I forced myself to leave him alone and be quiet, knowing he was tired from working relentlessly for a week and a half. This left too much time for me to amuse myself, which led to boredom eating. I'd wanted to go out for coffee this morning, but it was nearing ten o'clock, and I was sceptical that I could get him out of the house before twelve. I resorted to hunting through the cupboard for a replacement, eventually settling on cereal. I managed to stuff about half a bowl in my face before my boyfriend finally decided to join me in the kitchen.

Sleepy and a little disorientated by the time, he rubbed his face, sucking his fingers back inside the sleeves of his hoodie to combat the cold air in the kitchen. It took a moment for him to focus on me, and then a little more time to comprehend what was in my plate. "What in the actual fuck are you eating?" Carlisle asked, standing in the kitchen doorway, open-mouthed in shock as he watched me take a bite of the brightly coloured substance.

I had to laugh at his shock, wondering how he'd made it to twenty three without trying novelty breakfast food. I held out my spoon for him to try it. "They're called 'Lucky Charms', Carlisle, don't look so disturbed."

He didn't come closer, wrinkling his nose at the colourful pieces on the spoon. "Babe, you can consider yourself 'lucky' if you don't end up hospitalised from eating bits of plastic," he shook his head, half teasing, and half genuinely horrified.

"It's marshmallow," I laughed. "Don't hate it until you try it; we love this shit here, you immigrant. Kate especially. And I'm pretty sure they have it in the UK, so don't pretend we're the weird ones."

"Marshmallow for breakfast?" he repeated sceptically, cringing as he traced the spoon as I lifted it to my lips.

"Come here and try it." I held the spoon out again, and this time he crept closer and let me feed it to him. "I know it's early for colours, but it's good, I promise."

Muttering something about artificial dye and too much sugar, he chewed it slowly. "…It looks like it's radio-active," he muttered after a minute.

"It tastes nice though," I teased, knowing I had him. "It even contains some nutrition, if you want to read the box."

"If I read the box, I'm sure I will have a heart attack." He rolled his eyes at me. "And it tastes like pudding, not breakfast."

Laughing again, I nudged him in the ribs lightly, making him jump. "But it yummy," I teased again, to which he reluctantly nodded. Kissing the side of his face, I wrapped my arm around his waist, tucking him against my side. "You slept in this morning."

Turned to face me, he hugged me properly, his cheek against my collar bone. "Yeah, it was good…work's been kind of shitty this week…apparently the closer it gets to Christmas time, the more people feel the need to be dickheads to sales people."

"You've seen what I get like," I reminded him, squeezing him gently. "Good thing that you get to hide away in your office with your paper work, huh?"

He nodded, sighing. "Yeah, I feel bad for the rest of the staff though. Why do people need to be shitty in a damn bookshop, for god's sake? Go to Walmart." His analysis had me chuckling, and I kissed the top of his head.

"Less than two months, and then it's over," I reminded him. "Are you…feeling okay about it?"

"…yeah," he answered cautiously after hesitating a moment. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"Nervous?" I squeezed his hand, carefully watching his face.

"Little bit," he forced a smile.

"It'll all be fine, Carlisle, I promise."

.

.

I hadn't had my brother in my kitchen for months, but here he was, home-baked casserole and all.

"Carmen cooked it," he told me before I could comment, making me laugh. It was a relief; Eleazar was a pretty shit cook, when it came down to it.

"Thank god for that," I teased him.

He rolled his eyes, pulling me into a one-armed hug. "Congratulations on your new roommate, by the way. I'm surprised it took you two that long, honestly; you're practically attached to each other."

I pushed him lightly with my shoulder. "We're not _that_ bad. We do have separate lives, you know."

Laughing, he chose not to comment. It had been a long time since I had to be alone in a kitchen with him, and we were a little clumsy as we worked around each other to dish everything up, but we got there in the end.

Dinner was nice, and I was glad that we were in my flat rather than Eleazar's; sure, Kate was intent on making everything sticky, but it was somewhere both me and Carlisle were comfortable. No one could convince my niece to sit at the table as ice cream was handed out, and I had to relent and let her eat in front of the TV to keep the peace. I was saying prayers for my furniture.

Carmen and Carlisle were entertaining the child while I started to clean up, and Eleazar had excused himself to go to the bathroom. The conversation between the two of them was quiet and interrupted by Kate, but it was nice to hear, all the same. I liked that my boyfriend could be close to at least one member of my family, and I knew she was fond of him too.

"…What was it like…the first time you spent Christmas with Eleazar's family…?" Carlisle asked her, quiet and a little bit nervous. Proof that he still worried about it.

Although I couldn't see them from the kitchen, I could hear Carmen's faint confusion, but she answered him anyway. "Like any other Christmas; wonderful." There was a pause in their conversation where he didn't respond, and I wondered if I'd have to step in to bail him out of a conversation he didn't want to be part of. "His parents will be fine with you, Carlisle. I know you've had a rough time with them, but they're lovely people; they wouldn't throw you out on Christmas day."

He didn't have time to answer her, Eleazar appearing again and interrupting them. Carlisle retreated into the kitchen with me, a little unsteadied by the conversation, though he had initiated it. Not commenting on anything, he picked up a tea towel, starting to dry the dishes.

I kissed his cheek, rubbing the small of his back, but chose not to say anything about it. I didn't think it would help at all, seeming as he'd fled to get away from the question. Part of me suspected he hadn't actually wanted to ask, but hadn't been able to stop himself. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He forced a smile. "Just tired."

"Are you working tomorrow?"

"No, not until Monday." As he reached up to put a cup back in the cupboard, I mentally traced the slither of exposed skin against his back as his shirt shifted up, pressing my fingers into the bench to stop myself touching him.

"You can sleep all you want, then." I was fairly sure that Kate would get whiney within the next hour, and Eleazar would have to take her home to bed, so he could go to bed soon if he wanted. I wasn't tired yet, but going to bed with him wasn't unappealing.

Humming quietly in acknowledgment, he turned to face me, hugging me tightly and resting his head on my shoulder. Eleazar interrupted us, making an entrance behind us.

"Mum and Dad want you over for brunch on your birthday, Garrett," he told me, somewhat obnoxiously. I knew this already, so I knew he was shit-stirring.

I hated the occasion. It involved everything that made me feel like shit; photos, food, and unrelenting attention. Thank fuck I didn't have enough friends for anyone to try and throw parties, or I'd have to find something to jump off. I groaned in answer to my brother, releasing my hold on Carlisle.

"It happens every year, don't be a drama queen," he warned, rolling his eyes at me.

"That doesn't make it any more enjoyable," I grumbled. "The only good thing about it is cake."

"Which you never eat," he reminded me.

My cheeks heated a little at his observation, but I tried not to react. He was right though; I could never bring myself to eat it in front of whoever my mother managed to drag into the event, and I knew that it made me look like a stuck-up prick. Because what kind of asshole doesn't want their own birthday cake? Me, apparently.

"Suck it up, Gar, it's happening and you can't stop it. Make peace with the fact that you're an old man, and get over it," he teased. It was then his daughter started up, complaining she was sleepy and wanted to go home now, just as I counted on her doing. Thank god.

They wished us goodbye, and Carmen enclosed Carlisle in a tight hug, softly reinforcing that Christmas would be okay. I wrapped my arm around his waist, rubbing his side as we closed the door behind them.

"You never told me it was your birthday, Garrett," he murmured to me once they were gone. It wasn't quite a scolding, but I got the sense that he was a little put-out by it.

"That's because I'd like to ignore it as much as possible," I grumbled. "It's a dumb occasion anyway."

He didn't let me pull back, placing a kiss on my lips. "What do you want? It's supposed to be for presents, right?"

"Nothing, just forget about it." Already, I wanted to smash my head into a wall. Even more so if he insisted on getting on the band wagon. Perhaps 'birthday bus' was more appropriate.

"I don't think your parents are going to abide by that rule, Gar," he laughed. "What's the matter?"

"They do this every year, and it never goes well; it always makes me sick," I admitted, sighing. "You hate Christmas, and I hate my birthday. The only thing I want is you in bed, preferably without clothes on. I don't think mum is going to take to that answer well, though."

"I'm sure we can do that anyway," he laughed, rolling his eyes at me. "But I'm not asking your mother's permission to keep you home in bed for the day. And that's still not a present; that's just what happens whenever someone leaves us alone too long."

I had to laugh at that; he did have a point. "I don't want presents," I grumbled.

"But-"

"If you bring any sort of gift into the house, I'm terminating this relationship." The threat wasn't about to be taken seriously, I could tell, but he dropped the subject, reaching for my hand instead. I wasn't sure what made me so sour about the whole thing, but I hated everything about it. "I'll get revenge on your birthday, if you try anything," I warned. We hadn't really talked about that, and I wasn't sure where we stood in terms of it. I just hoped it wasn't as sensitive a topic as Christmas.

"Mine isn't until March, so keep it in your pants until then." Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any negative emotions attached to it, so maybe I was the only one who was shitty about ageing. There was a pause before he started up again. "What do you want for Christmas, then?"

"Carlisle," I groaned.

"What? You want me to do Christmas properly, and this is doing it properly," he teased, seemingly pleased to have me cornered.

I rolled my eyes. "You're impossible."

He feigned innocence. "But isn't that what Christmas is all about? What'd we buy all that obnoxious paper for, then?"

"You really are a menace this morning."

"And you invited me to live here," he teased. "You're stuck with me now."

Unable to resist a smile, I stood behind him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, kissing the side of his face. "And I'm bloody glad I did."

He leaned back against me, folding his arms over mine. "Me too."


	33. Chapter 33

**I think I'm back on track with regular updates, if my exams will allow it. The birthday chapter will go up on Wednesday, and hopefully Wednesday will remain the regular posting day like it used to be. Sorry I've been so useless lately, my university is on my ass with assignments at the moment.**

The silence never bothered me anymore. I didn't feel the need to turn on the radio to expel the quiet when I was with Carlisle, content to stand in silence. It was comfortable, and being alone with my thoughts wasn't as terrifying as it used to be. Maybe because they were full of him. I was such a fucking idiot.

"Can we hang your sketches on the wall?" Although I had wanted to ask, I hadn't wanted to ask right then.

It took him a moment to respond, and his hands froze in their endeavours to get into his jacket. "Am I you five-year-old child?" he teased, hiding a frown. His eyes wandered to the book, and had it been closer to him, I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd hidden it.

I caught hold of his waist, bringing our lips together. "No, but I'm proud of you and it bothers me that you keep them locked up in a folder for no one to see."

He tangled one hand in my hair as we kissed, the other rubbing the small of my back, but really didn't look that impressed about it. Anxiety was bubbling underneath the surface, and he was nibbling his lip as he thought about it. "Shouldn't you be hanging Kate's pictures on the walls? You treat her like your daughter when she's here."

"Is that a 'no', then?" Cupping his face in my hand, I stroked my thumb across his cheek, letting my lips graze his jaw. I wasn't about to push the point, if he didn't like it; it had already occurred to me that maybe he _liked_ having them hidden away like that.

"…I'm just not sure, Gar…I'm okay with you seeing them…sort of…but then when we have guests, or your parents come over…" It was winding him up, and he couldn't quite meet my eyes, guilty. "It's weird."

"That's fine, Carlisle; I wouldn't do it without your permission," I assured him softly, pressing more kisses against his neck and winding my arms around his waist. "That's why I asked you."

Offering a shy smile, he hugged me suddenly, his arms around my shoulders as I ran my hands down his back. "…I really don't want that…"

"It was just a thought," I chuckled. "Please don't worry about it." Cuddling in the kitchen was lovely, and I loved having my arms around him, but we were interrupted by my stomach growling, pissed that it was eleven o'clock in the morning and I hadn't had breakfast yet. Laughing, we broke apart. "Hey, um…do you want to go to a café or something to get food? I want to try…" I trailed off, unsure of myself. I figure it was better to do it if I was starving, though; eating had a bit more of a pull then.

He smiled hopefully, and his faith in me made me a little more hopeful as well. "Yeah, that'd be nice." Running his hands down my arms, he squeezed my fingers. "Do you have somewhere in mind?"

Biting my lip, I thought about it for a while. "...somewhere small, maybe? Where it's not so crowded?"

"Where ever you're most comfortable."

We ended up in one of the first places we'd gotten coffee together, and the memory was nice if nothing else. My stomach was doing anxious flips, making me a little nauseous, but Carlisle squeezing my fingers helped to keep me grounded. "…I'm nervous…" I whispered as we waited in line to order, fidgeting with my clothing; it already felt too tight, and I was sure everyone could tell.

"You're okay," he murmured to me, sliding his arm around my waist to rub my side. "I'm so proud of you; you're doing so well."

Forcing a breath between gritted teeth, I stepped up to the counter, picking the least offensive sandwich on the menu. It was on the plate way too soon, and this time when my stomach growled in anticipation, it hurt and I wrapped my arms around my middle, swallowing a whimper.

Carlisle took my hand and led me over into a quieter corner, letting me back into a wall before I lost my shit. "It's okay," he assured me, reaching over the table to brush my hair off my face. His touch helped to calm me, and I watched as he took a pointed bite of his lunch.

Keeping my eyes on him and refusing to look at anyone else in the room, I mimicked his action, taking the tiniest bite I could. Still, my throat closed and I almost gagged. Already I was hyperventilating, shifting uncomfortably as the texture of the bread became awful. I really wanted to spit it out, but I couldn't do it discreetly and I didn't know what to do. Panicking, I was holding back tears, silently pleading with Carlisle to get me out of here.

He stood up, standing in front of me and partially blocking my view of the rest of the diners, hugging me against him. "Try drinking, Gar, it might help you swallow." Pouring a glass of water, he slid it across the table for me. "Just a little sip. If it makes it worse, we can go to the bathroom and you can spit it out." He was running his fingers through my hair, and it was slowly relaxing the knot in my gut. I felt like a fucking child.

My hands shook as I picked up the glass, but as the cool water slipped between my lips, the urge to swallow increased until I couldn't stand it anymore.

And it didn't hurt.

I swallowed and I didn't feel sick. My stomach didn't immediately reject it, either.

Carlisle kissed my forehead, rubbing my shoulders and trying to soothe me, not realising that I was okay.

"…I'm alright…" I whispered to him, scared to say the words in case it changed it. Nervous but needing to see if it was real, I took another careful bite, drinking immediately after and almost crying in relief as it went down. "Carlisle…"

Filling the glass again, despite it being mostly full, he continued to comfort me with hugs and kisses, smiling every time I glanced up at him in search of reassurance. I managed most of it before surrendering, turning to wrap my arms around him. I didn't even want to know what this looked like from the outside – no doubt people probably thought he was my carer or something – but I couldn't bring myself to care just yet.

"Finish your food, I'm okay," I told him, grinning and pleased with myself. Turns out I was a little too cocky. The meal didn't sit so well without my boyfriend's hands on me; he had taken away any self-consciousness I felt, but that all rushed back in when he was sitting across from me. Apparently, independence wasn't quite on the table yet.

"You're feeling alright?" he asked softly, reaching over to squeeze my fingers and brush his thumb over the back of my hand. "You've done so well."

I nodded, unable to resist as shy smile under his praise; I needed the reassurance. "Can we take coffee home, though? I'm not sure if I can handle too much more and I don't want to projectile vomit all over their floor; I like this café and I want to come back one day…"

Chuckling at my wording, he quickly finished his food, reaching for my hand as we made it to the door. I kissed the backs of our fingers and let him lead me into the street. It was starting to drizzle slightly on our way back home, making our hair damp, but I didn't mind it, too smug to care.

The longer we walked, the more I began to overthink it, suddenly no longer proud of myself and worried instead. My silence must have been a good indicator of my discomfort, because Carlisle noticed after a few minutes, running his hand down my back and sliding his arm around my waist.

.

.

I couldn't shake the heavy feeling. Sitting at home, I was digging my fingers into the couch to keep from picking my clothing to bits, watching Carlisle absentmindedly sketching something while he half-used his phone. It was a weird form of multi-tasking, and his attention wasn't fully captured by either thing, though the pencil in his hand seemed to hold precedence over the technology.

"What's the frown for?" he asked softly. I hadn't realised he was even aware of me; he was seemingly caught up in what he was doing. "Are you feeling sick?"

Shaking my head, I tried to decide on a way to approach the subject; the last thing I wanted was for it to come out as an accusation, and I was scared that was what my anxiety would make it sound like. "Carlisle…I know it went okay today, but I'm not ready to try anything that's too…" I trailed off, silently pleading with him to understand what I was trying to tell him.

"I'm not going to force you into a situation that makes you uncomfortable, Garrett," he assured me, glancing up from his drawing. "Don't worry, okay?"

Something dawned on me suddenly, and I groaned, feeling horrible. "Oh god…this is how you feel, isn't it? When I drag you out to my parents? And about Christmas? Fuck, Carlisle…"

He fell silent and looked away, while I drowned in guilt. There wasn't any way he could argue with me; we both knew it was true.

"I'm so sorry. I knew it was hard for you, but I didn't think for a second that- that- Carlisle, I'm sorry." I fell into the seat next to him, wrapping my arms around him to pull him into me. Thankfully, he melted into me like normal, and I hugged him tightly. "I'm so, so sorry."

Shifting a little so he could face me, he gently brought our lips together, his thumb brushing my cheek as he moved his hand to my hair. "It's not quite the same, I don't think…parents and Christmas are compulsory. Dinner dates are sweet, but it's more of an effort on your behalf, seeming as you don't have to do it if you don't want to."

"That makes it worse," I groaned again. "I promise that I'll take you out one day and-"

He cut me off with a kiss, sliding into my lap and fidgeting with the collar of my shirt. "I really don't care about all that, Garrett. Staying home and eating pizza in front of the TV is perfect. And as for Christmas…I'll…"

" _We'll_ deal with it when it get here, yeah?"

He offered me a hopeful smile. After being quiet for a moment, I knew he was building up to ask me something, and I knew I really wasn't going to like it. "You never did tell me what you wanted for your birthday?"

" _Carlisle._ " I tightened my fingers around his sleeves, barely resisting rolling him off me and back into the seat next to him. "You know how I feel about this; we've had this conversation."

"Yeah, yeah; you threatened to dump me and I ignored you, and then you refused to tell me what you want for Christmas," he recited innocently.

"Carlisle," I warned again, groaning.

As usual, he ignored my bad humour. "I've been on the phone to your mother, by the way. We have to be at your parent's place by two tomorrow, which means we have to leave here by eleven. I tried to talk her into letting us come later, because I know you're only going to bitch about getting up before lunch on your birthday, but that's as late as we could make and still call it lunch-"

"You called my mother?" I asked in disbelief, laughing a little out of shock.

"Well, actually, Sasha called me, but yeah, I guess so?"

"Since when are you two on first name basis?"

"Carmen and Eleazar must have given me a good reference?" The relief of being accepted by my family was written all over his face, and it had me grinning.

"They better have, considering how much their daughter loves you." I kissed his forehead. "And how much I love you."

"Ew, sappy…but I love you too." His lips brushed mine before he deepened the kiss. "…And it makes it easier…that Eleazar's family is so nice to me. I like them a lot, and Carmen is really sweet. She's lovely."

"Do we have a little bit of crush on Carmen?" I teased lightly, restraining a chuckle.

He rolled his eyes, but his cheeks did flush a little, and I couldn't help it, starting to laugh. "The only person I have a 'crush' on, Garrett, is you," he teased back, running his fingers through my hair as he unfolded himself from my lap to stand up. "Bed time; maybe getting a good night's sleep will make you less shitty about ageing tomorrow?"

"You're bloody lucky I'm not making you spend the night on the couch." It was supposed to be a complaint, but I was still laughing from before so it only came out as a chuckle. I wrapped my arms around him, tugging him down the hallway with me.

He could make me go to bed, but I'd be damned if I was going alone.


	34. Chapter 34

**For once, she has a chapter up on time. And we hit 3000 views last chapter! Wooo!**

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The room was warm when I woke up, and I immediately reached over in search of Carlisle. His lips were against my neck before I found him, and I hummed in pleasure, running my hand up his back as he leant over me.

"Happy birthday, Garrett," he murmured softly, kissing me before I could respond.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, only just awake enough to comprehend how good this felt. "Good morning, you." Having the blankets between us was quickly becoming frustrating, and I tried to shuffle out from under them. Tangled, I didn't gain freedom until Carlisle folded them back, and he slid closer to me, sliding one leg between mine to close any space between us.

"How's twenty-seven feel?" he teased, his lips meeting mine and preventing me from answering for a minute.

"Pretty damn good, with you here," I chuckled, squeezing his waist before sneaking my hands under his t-shirt. "Even better, if this was off you."

Laughing, he obediently stripped down to his underwear, unbuttoning my shirt while he was at it. "You know, we don't really have that much time before we have to go and see your family, seeming as you wanted to sleep all morning."

I groaned, pulling him back into me and resting my head against his shoulder. "I would have woken up an hour ago, it you'd told me that."

"We have all night tonight, though," he reminded me, brushing my hair back off my face. "And we can still shower together before we leave."

With no choice, I surrendered. "You have a deal," I groaned. I let him drag me into the bathroom, sulking as he gently pulled my clothing off me.

"Has age rendered your hands useless, Garrett?" Under the water, his fingers worked through my hair, untangling it slowly. His lips grazed my jaw, trailing soft kisses down my neck as he slid his hands down my back.

Forcing a deep breath, I leaned my head back against the wall, letting my eyes fall closed as his fingers came to rest on my hips. I smiled as I felt his arms slide around my waist, and ran my hands up his arms and across his shoulder blades, bringing our lips together. "We aren't going to be getting any cleaner like this," I murmured to him, squeezing him against me.

Leaning up to kiss me again, he pushed me back against the wall. "I guess not. Do you think you can manage by yourself?" he teased.

I must have frowned, because he laughed, condescendingly placing his hand on my chest. I closed my fingers over it, squeezing slightly. "If I must."

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Far too soon we were in the car and on the way to my parents. My knuckles were white, I was squeezing the wheel so tightly, and we hadn't even pulled out of our driveway yet. I'd done up my seat belt as soon as I was in the vehicle, purely to stop myself climbing out the window and making a break for it down the street.

"You look cute today, by the way," Carlisle told me as he jumped in the passenger's seat. He'd had to rush to get ready after waiting for me to finish so he could shower, and his hair was still wet, his shoes still untied, and the buttons of his shirt were slightly askew. As for anyone being 'cute' in this car, it was definitely him.

I was too nervous to smile or make any smart remark back, waiting until he'd rearranged himself before starting the car. I felt sick, and my stomach was already hurting. It made my achievement the day before feel like nothing, and I wanted to cry. Going to my parent's place was the last thing I wanted to do, but the choice had already been made for me. I just wanted to curl up in bed with movies and my boyfriend.

"Hey…It'll be okay, Garrett," he murmured quietly after noting my reaction. Sliding his hand up my leg, he knotted his fingers through mine, squeezing my hand. "Everything will be fine. Besides, they can't keep you all day; you're mine tonight."

The pressure I was putting on his fingers must have been unpleasant, but I couldn't loosen my grip any out of fear of losing my mind. He just ran his thumb over the back of my hand, silently trying to soothe me.

The three-hour drive was a quiet one, and I was sure Carlisle's hand must have been numb by the time we finally pulled into the driveway. My stomach was churning, and I felt like I was going to throw up. "…I can't do this…" I whispered frantically, fighting not to put the car in reverse.

"Yes, you can. Just go see your mother, if nothing else; she misses you. And if you need to go home, I'll drive us and we can just forget about it." He wrapped his arm around his waist as we walked up to the door, and I was hyperventilating. I tried to focus on the feeling of his hands on me, just like in the restaurant, but it wasn't working.

I barely had to knock before mum threw open the door, her arms around my neck. "Happy birthday, sweetheart. Your aunts came from out of town to see you too! And they've brought lunch-"

I couldn't hear anything after that, my ears ringing too loudly. The room was spinning and I was barely aware that Carlisle had pulled me inside and we had been confronted with the said aunts, and their children. I was going to fucking die.

"You must be Carlisle, we've heard a lot about you." My aunts voice was enough to yank me roughly back into reality. Fuck no, was anyone going to pick on him again. Not after he'd just overcome my father's crap. My arm snaked around his shoulders, and he was rubbing my side.

My boyfriend didn't miss a beat though. "Siobhan, isn't it? Sasha said that you and your family had come over from Ireland…" Again, I let his voice fade; he was handling it fine. Far better than I was. Because I was fucking pathetic.

At lunch, I managed a few mouthfuls, which pleased my parents, but was forced to abandon my plate in case it all come back up again. Mum was intent on force-feeding my boyfriend when she found she I wouldn't eat it, and he was letting her, purely to please her I thought. An hour or so passed, and I wouldn't let Carlisle more than two feet away from me, keeping a tight hold on his hand. I was standing in front of a kitchen counter, surrounded by everyone and Kate was wrapped around my legs and whining at me, but I couldn't hear any of them through the haze in my head.

"Garrett…" Carlisle touched the side of my face, finally catching my attention. He offered me a sympathetic smile when our eyes met. "Blow out your candles; they're all waiting for you," he whispered.

I did, and tripped over Eleazar as I stepped back so they could cut the cake. Thank god, no one had tried to arm me with a knife. My brother's hands covered my shoulders as he steadied me. "Careful, birthday boy."

I stood to the side until the flurry of people thinned out after getting their piece of cake, vaguely aware of Carlisle hugging me and trying to calm me down. My stomach hurt so badly I didn't want to stand up anymore.

"Come, honey, come get your cake," mum smiled at me, ushering me toward the counter. It was brightly coloured, and she was so happy to give it to me, but I couldn't do it.

"…mum, I-I really don't feel well…" My voice broke, and Carlisle's hand instinctively tightened around mine.

"Just a little bit, sweetie, I promise you'll like it," she coaxed again, disappointment starting to set in. "Your aunt Siobhan brought it with her."

"I-I know, mum, b-but I-I can't…" My voice caught and my eyes were burning, my vision so blurry I couldn't see. Mumbling something about needing to go toilet, I stumbled my way to the bathroom, landing on my hands and knees in front of the toilet bowl. Lunch rushed up again, and I was sick, barely registering Carlisle's hands against my face as he brushed my hair back.

"Deep breaths, Garrett, it's okay," he whispered to me. Gone suddenly from my side, I heard him lock the bathroom door and tells someone on the other side that we were alright. He wrapped his arms around me as I sat back, and I buried my face in his shoulder as he hugged me. "It's okay."

"…I want to go home…" I mumbled to him, trying not to cry.

"Okay, Gar, I'll talk to your mum, and we can go. It's alright." Kissing my neck, he stayed with me for a few more minutes before standing again. "Don't lock the door, okay? I'll be right back." He was gone for a few minutes, and I stayed sitting on the bathroom floor, waiting for him to bail me out.

I leaned my forehead against my knees, forcing deep breaths to calm myself down. This was probably the worst attack I'd ever had, and I couldn't place what had triggered it so badly; I had survived this in better condition every other year.

I hadn't heard him come back in, but he was rubbing my arms suddenly, asking me if I was ready to move. "…what'd you tell her…?" There was nothing like finding out your son has had an eating disorder his entire life on his twenty-seventh birthday, just because someone did something nice for him.

"That I thought you had a stomach bug, and weren't feeling well. Come; let's get you home." And thank fucking god for that.

The lie was definitely a good one; no one wanted to touch me, so I got away with only a pat on the back from Eleazar, and a hug from both my parents. Even in my dizzy state, I couldn't help but be pleased to see dad touch my boyfriend somewhat affectionately, even if it was a stiff handshake.

I was silent as Carlisle drove home, sitting on my fingertips and keeping my head down. The radio was off, so the noise from outside seemed amplified. He reached over, his hand on my thigh as he rubbed my leg.

"You okay?" he asked me softly, squeezing gently.

"…my mum…" I mumbled. The guilt was suffocating.

"She understood, it's alright. Please don't worry."

I covered his hand between both of mine, needing the contact. "She thinks I'm sick, though. She understood the lie…"

"It doesn't matter, Garrett. If you want to talk to her about it later, I can come with you if you need me to. Just calm down for now."

Blowing out a deep breath, I nodded. "Y-yeah…okay…"

It was just after five by the time we got home, and all I wanted was to crawl into bed and forget about the whole thing. I felt bad about abandoning whatever it was the Carlisle wanted to do with me, but I couldn't face anymore just yet. He came to bed with me though, letting me cuddle into him in search of comfort. Having his arms around me made me feel safe, and I was easily able to fall asleep.

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My boyfriend wasn't with me when I woke up again, and I wandered into the kitchen in search of him. He appeared in front of me in no time at all, wrapping me in a hug before he stepped back. "Sit."

I did as he said, and sat at the table, watching suspiciously as he disappeared to grab something out of the cupboard. "Carlisle," I warned lowly, knowing he was up to something. I really didn't feel like doing anything remotely 'birthday' related now; I knew my mother was put out by me not eating, and it made me feel like shit to have hurt her.

"It's not a present, so you can't dump me," he teased gently, setting the cake in front of me and starting to light the candles. "I'm drawing the line at singing to you, though, so blow out your candles, birthday boy."

I had to laugh at that, rolling me eyes at him. It was fucking cute though, and I was a little flattered that he'd gone out of his way to source the treat for me. "Where'd you get this from? It's pretty…"

"The wax will drip; blow them out." My amazement was apparently amusing, because he was trying not to laugh, and watching him was making me chuckle. I did as he asked, and he fell into the chair next to me, handing me a knife. "…I knew you wouldn't eat at your parents, and I thought maybe it would be nice if you did here instead…you can't miss out on your own cake for twenty-seven years straight, though if you don't feel like eating just yet, that's okay too." A little shy now, he leaned over to kiss me lightly. "Happy birthday."

I didn't let him pull back, bringing our lips together again. "You're the sweetest person I've ever met, you know that, right?" Rubbing his arm as he hugged my waist, I leaned my cheek against the top of his head, despite it being a little awkward sitting at the table like this.

"…I wanted to give it to you tomorrow, since you're not feeling well, but I think it'll melt, and I wanted you to at least see it while it still looked nice," he admitted, looking down.

"It's perfect, Carlisle. I know I overreacted today, but I feel okay now…thank you." I pulled him into me, shuffling his chair over to me. "You're also getting first bite of this; it smells wonderful." Cutting off a piece of it for both of us, I scooped some of it up on a fork, holding it out to him.

"Shouldn't I be the one feeding you? It's your cake, after all," he laughed, letting me do it anyway.

"It's my birthday, so I can do what I want," I teased, in a far better mood now. I took a bite of it while his mouth was too full to come out with anything that needed an instant response, and I almost groaned at how good it tasted. I wished I could have done this with the rest of my family too. "Where'd you get this from?"

He hesitated a second, before giving in and telling me. "One of the women I work with does cake decorating as like a second job…so I got it from her, because I couldn't make a cake to save my life."

"Thank you." I kissed his forehead before continuing to stuff my face. "Are you trying to make me fat?" I teased him, trying to talk through the food in my mouth.

"Don't talk with your mouth full." He rolled his eyes, hiding a smile. "And if anyone is trying to make anyone else fat, it's your mother; she fed me so much stuff when we were there this morning I'm surprised I can still move."

I poked his ribs, making him squeak and jump into me. "She has to feed one of us, and seeming as I'm useless, it has to be you…is it too late to do whatever you wanted to do tonight?"

"No, we had to wait until it was dark anyway; do you feel like going out? It's okay if you don't, I'll take you another day." Seeing the expression on my face, he continued. "Don't worry, I'm not going to drag you into town; I'm not going to torture you." He knew me too well. My stubbornness about birthdays weren't something he'd encountered before, but to his credit, he was handling it very well.

It put me at ease, and I relaxed in my chair a little bit. "Thank god."


	35. Chapter 35

**I'm not sure if they're call something different in other countries, so I thought I'd make a note of it here.**

 **An observatory** **= a place with telescopes used for looking at astronomy, usually for research. Here the open them to the public fairly regularly, but I'm not sure if this is done everywhere or not, so please excuse the inaccuracy if this isn't the case elsewhere.**

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He still hadn't told me where we were going when we got in the car, but I was growing increasing curious as we drove out into the country. As the streetlights faded into the distance, and we pulled into a dirt road, I couldn't resist asking.

"Where are we going?" I asked for the millionth time that hour, placing my hand on his thigh as he drove.

"Five minutes; we're almost there," he promised, unable to repress a small smile.

I was practically twitching in anticipation but the time I saw the sign. "The observatory? What?"

His cheeks heated a little and he reached for my hand as we got out of the car, leading me toward the building. "Your mother told me you and Eleazar used to come here when you were kids?"

I nodded my head and squeezed his fingers. "…yeah…dad used to…" Stopping him at the door, I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him firmly. I hadn't been up here in so long I'd forgotten this place had existed; my father used to take my brother and I up here all the time when we were younger, and I'd never quite been able to squash my love for it. The whole experiences was emotion-logged.

"Is this okay?" he asked hesitantly.

"It's perfect, Carlisle," I mumbled into his shoulder, suddenly almost tearful; the nostalgia was a little strong. It wasn't a bad thing, though, just overwhelming. "I love you."

"I love you too." His fingers stayed locked around mine as we went inside. He paid our entry fee, and we made our way up the unfortunate amount of stairs to get up to the top floor.

Nothing had changed since I'd last been here, almost twenty years ago, and we were pretty much alone, bar a few other people mulling around and a couple of staff members. Thankfully, the weather was clear, so we a perfect view of the sky. The stars seemed brighter than when I was younger and we sat for a while in the dim lighting under the large panel in the ceiling, watching the night sky.

I was finding it hard to concentrate on the stars, though; watching Carlisle was far more tempting. I reached for him again, brushing his hair back off his face and smiling when he did. "Have you been up here before?" I asked, keeping my voice low as not to disturb the peace.

He shook his head but didn't look over at me, transfixed on the sky. "No…I didn't know it existed until your mother mentioned it…it's pretty, though."

"Come, it gets better." I got up, pulling him up after me and over to one of the telescopes. Looking through the lens, it was just as magical as I remembered it, and it instantly brought a smile to my face. I stepped back after a few minutes, tearing my eyes away from it and nudging Carlisle forward. His face lit up immediately, and I slipped my arm around his waist.

We stayed for a while longer, until the staff were itching for us to leave so they could go home. On the drive home, we stopped to get takeaways; I hadn't eaten a proper meal all day, but I didn't think my boyfriend was actually hungry, and he was just humouring me.

He seemed extra 'clingy' tonight as we lay together in bed a few hours later. We were both exhausted from a long day, despite my nap, and it was quite late now. Carlisle had quite literally wrapped himself around me, and I really wasn't complaining, still feeling a little emotionally fragile after the episode at my parents.

"I'm sorry your birthday was shit, Garrett," he murmured to me, squeezing me extra tightly for a second.

I wrapped my arm around him so he could rest his head against my shoulder, and I had an excuse to kiss him. "It wasn't. Not the time I spent with you, anyway. It's the best one I've had in a long time, bar my parents…thank you for tonight; it really means a lot."

He sighed, and I couldn't decipher whether the expression on his face was frustration or disappointment. "I just wish today could have been special for you; your mother didn't tell me that there would be so many people there, but I took you there even after I promised I wouldn't throw you in the deep end the other day. I'm sorry." Definitely frustration.

Rolling over so that I was on top of him, I pinned his hands against the bed. "Listen, you. What we did tonight meant a hell of a lot to me, and we can just forget about what happened at my parents from now; mum just thinks I'm sick, and I'll deal with the truth later." I leaned down to kiss him. "We are going to have to tell her that I'm fine now though. I don't want her to freak out and get over-protective."

His cheeks flushed a very light shade of pink and he trained his eyes on the ceiling. "…I've spoken to her already…she knows you're okay. I told her that you were tired – which wasn't a lie, by the way, because you were asleep – and she said that she'd call you tomorrow to see how you were…" he admitted, guilty and shy.

"Even better, then," I murmured, releasing his hands so he could wrap his arms around my neck.

"…you don't mind me talking to her, do you?" he asked quietly, glancing up to meet my eyes.

"No, of course not. I love that you can do that. I might have something to say if you start conspiring with my brother, though," I grinned at him. "There's going to be trouble if you two start picking on me."

Laughing, he shoved me sideways so he could cuddle into my side again. "Only as long as you don't side with Alistair."

"I'm not making any promises," I teased.

He rolled his eyes at me, playfully slapping my chest. "You wouldn't."

"You know that I would. I'm sure there's much he could tell me about you and Edward-"

He pressed his hand over my mouth. "Shut up and go to sleep. It may be your birthday, but it's only your birthday for another few hours, and after that I can smother you with a clean conscious." Pulling his hand away again, he kissed me gently, resting his cheek on my chest.

"Whatever you say, Carlisle."

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It was still dark when I woke up, and I wasn't immediately sure _why_ I was awake in the first place. It was just after 5AM when I glanced at my alarm clock. All was revealed when I tried to shift; the way Carlisle was lying on me was fucking uncomfortable. Somehow, he'd managed to get his arm underneath me so that he could hug me tightly, leaving me both unable to lie flat, and unable to breathe properly with him squeezing me.

I carefully tried to pull away from him without waking up, but, being the light sleeper he was, he was awake the instant I tried to move him. Apparently being woken up far too early didn't damper his love for the morning though; he sat up to grab his phone and look at the time.

"Why're we awake?" he asked, far too chirpy for the hour.

"Because you're sleeping like an asshole," I teased to the best of my sleepy ability. "My surprised you can still feel your fingers."

He clenched and released his hand a few times, trying to get the blood flow back. "Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly. "Since we're awake, do you wanna go for a walk? We can watch the sun rise?"

What part of 5AM made him want to fucking exercise, of all things, I'd never understand. I must have frowned, because he laughed.

"We can make coffee and take it with us?" he tempted.

"And I can go back to bed when we get back?" I asked sceptically.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Garrett, then you can go back to bed."

Reluctantly, I agreed, groaning as I pulled on the closest pair of pants and jacket I could. He was dressed far too quickly, in a hoodie and jeans before I'd even stood up off the bed. "Why are we doing this exactly?" I grumbled at him.

"Because it's pretty, and it's good for your health, Gar," he teased.

"Sleep is also good for my health," I muttered. "But you don't seem worried about that aspect."

"Enough grumbling, hurry up and put your shoes on; I'll make us coffee."

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'Coffee' turned into a damn picnic, and I was sure my boyfriend's motive of bringing food was to shut me up as we walked. It worked, too; I couldn't complain when my mouth was full. My body wasn't too happy about the hill he'd decided to take us up, insisting that the view would be nicer up there. I couldn't have given less of a fuck about the view, but it made him happy so I humoured him.

I cringed as I sat down on the grass, only to find that it was wet their morning dew. Instantly the backs of my pants were damp, but Carlisle didn't listen to my whining about it. He handed me my flask of coffee and promptly told me to shut up instead.

"This better be as magical as you promised," I muttered as the first streaks of light started to peak through the clouds.

"Hey, you liked the stars, so you may as well see the other side of it," he pointed out.

I playfully hit his leg, and he folded his fingers around mine. In reality, I shouldn't have been complaining about watching a sun rise with a cute boy next to me, but I couldn't help it. It was so damn _early_. I slowly demolished my breakfast while I kept an eye on the sky, watching the colour shift from grey to orange. He was right; it was gorgeous. Enough so that I pulled out my phone to take a few pictures of it, planning on showing them to Kate next time I saw her; she liked this fairy-tale shit.

Carlisle caught me out halfway through the process, repressing a smirk. "Happy you came out?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "I can see why you like it."

"Alistair and I use to do this all the time; I kind of miss it. And, the rain stopped for us this morning, so it's even more perfect."

"There was no hand-holding with Alistair, I hope," I teased, squeezing his fingers.

"Without the hand-holding," he confirmed, laughing. "Without the breakfast and the coffee too; he didn't need as much incentive as you do to get up in the morning."

"God, two morning people in one house," I groaned, chuckling. "Does Randal have to do this too?"

"I don't think so; Allie not as cruel as I am." He leaned up to kiss my cheek, feigning innocence. "I'm sure he's allowed to stay in bed."

I shrugged. "I think I'm still better off; he may not be sleep deprived, but he also doesn't get to spend time with you." Wrapping my arms around him as he laughed, I pulled him into my lap, giving him a tight squeeze. "And, he also misses out on coffee, which is basically a crime in itself."

"I'm glad you value our relationship as much as you do caffeine." He rolled his eyes at me.

"You'll always share my heart with coffee, don't worry." I kissed him as he couldn't resist a smile.

After sitting on the hill for another half an hour or so, the novelty of watching the morning sky was quickly wearing off, and I was getting cranky like an over-tired toddler. Carlisle called me out on it. "You're worse than Kate when she doesn't get enough sleep," he told me. He, on the other hand, didn't care about the time and was happy as usual.

"That's because we both know what's good for us."

"Please, you'd sleep all day if you could," he laughed.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't ever be grumpy," I pointed out, frowning as I tried to suppress a yawn.

"Fine. Come on, drama queen, let's go home if being outside if that terrible." Still amused, he stood up, offering me his hand to pull myself up on. The back of my pants was very damp now, from the grass, but I was a little happier holding his hand.

After all my complaining, I didn't go back to bed when we got home. I had to go to work instead, and spent the entire day yawning and struggling to keep my eyes open. My boy made me lunch though, so I couldn't be mad at him, and I had decided I'd pick up takeaways on the way home since it was my night to cook and I didn't feel like it. I knew Carlisle wouldn't complain; nobody complains about pizza.

He wasn't home yet when I arrived, but I was starving and dished up our food anyway. I put his plate in the microwave, and took mine to sit in front of the TV, flicking through the channel to find something half-decent to watch while I waited for him.

"Pizza night?" he asked once he had the door open and saw the boxes on the table, not bothering to greet me first.

Laughing, I rolled my eyes. "In the microwave, Carlisle."

That was all the incentive he needed, and he was beside me again within a few minutes. "You know, we had takeaways last night too," he pointed out, folding his legs underneath himself. "We do this far too much."

"Yeah, and I'm the only one gaining weight," I accused, chuckling to myself. "I never did this before I started spending so much time with you, by the way. I used to eat meals like a normal human."

He shrugged, finishing his meal and then setting the plate on the table. I didn't need to glance over at him to know he was going to lean on me, and I subtly shifted in anticipation so that neither of us would be uncomfortable. Sure enough, he slid his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder as I ran my hand down his back. "How was work?"

"Fine, when I get to come home to you."

Laughing quietly, he kissed my neck. "I'm glad."

I repressed a smile; for all it's ups and downs, life was fucking perfect.


	36. Chapter 36

**My chapters are getting progressively longer, apparently.**

* * *

Carlisle wasn't in bed with me when I woke up, and I immediately felt the loss. It was still quite early, but something felt 'off' despite his habit of getting up before seven. I traced him to the longue, watching him pace up and down the kitchen on the phone. The call seemed to last forever, but the colour faded quickly from his cheeks. By the end of the it, he was choking back tears focused on the wall behind me rather than my face.

Accidently dropping his phone to the floor, he leant back against the bench, crossing his arms tightly and pressing one hand over his mouth. The tension in the room swelled until I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Carlisle, what's happening?" I asked, slowly crossing over to him and closing my fingers around his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. "Hey…say something?" Worrying he was going to pass out, I wrapped my arm around his waist, trying to gauge who could possibly upset him so much so quickly. "Is Alistair okay?"

He nodded slowly, dazed and pale. "…I-I…" His legs faltered under him slightly, and he reached behind him to hold onto the edge of the counter, forcing a deep breath before trying to speak again. His attempt to get a grip had failed; he still looked overwhelmed. "…Have to go back to London…"

"What? No, Carlisle, no way." I shook my head. My throat was instantly tight and I couldn't breathe. "No, you just moved here, a-and…" My head was swimming as I tried to process a long-distance relationship; of course I would do it, if I had to, but I could barely stand being away from him while he was at work, let alone if he was in another continent.

He shook his head, hugging me and resting his head against my shoulder. "…Not for good, Gar…I wouldn't do that to us…"

Breathing a sigh of relief, I squeezed him tightly, kissing his neck. "Tell me what's going on?"

He tried to do as he was asked, but was still a little out of it. He was scarily calm, and it was starting to freak me out. "…My father is in hospital, a-and they want to put him in an age care facility because he doesn't have anyone at home anymore, but legally they can't send him to a rest home without an immediate relative sighing the forms, so I have to go over there for a few days to do it…"

"Where are your brothers? They cant do it? Or can't someone email it to you?"

"T-they abandoned him…for all the love he gave them, they still left…" Suddenly, his resolve broke, and he glanced up to meet my eyes. "I-I never should have moved- this is my fault- this is all my fault…"

Suppressing a wave of anger directed toward that horrible fucking man, I ran my hand down his back to pull him closer against me. "No, Carlisle, of course it isn't," I soothed, amazed he wasn't crying. I suspected it was coming, though. "Nothing that happened with him will ever be your fault."

"I-I have to book plane tickets," he mumbled, his voice shaking. Already, I could see he was stressed, hyperventilating a little. I was sceptical that he was going to be dizzy, but he only stumbled a little on the way to getting his laptop.

"Can we talk about this first?" I pleaded. There was nothing I hated more than the thought of him near that man again. "This could be dangerous..."

"I have to go, Garrett. I can't just leave him." Biting his lip, he brought up the airline page, running a search for a return ticket to London. This was moving _far_ too fast. "If he's that sick, what damage can he possibly to?"

"He didn't do anything but hurt you." Reminding him about that wasn't the best thing to do, logically, but I would have done anything to deter him, even if it meant picking up the pieces later. With a jolt, I realised he was still fighting for his father's affection, and it made my head hurt. "You don't have to do anything for him."

"But he's my dad…" Anxious now, he was squeezing my hand tightly, visibly conflicted. "I can't let them just throw him out…he'll die because of me if they send him home again…"

"He's a monster." My throat was tight, and I was battling against a need to cry, knowing that he had already made his decision, and he was going to go. "I can come with you; you can't go by yourself. It isn't safe." I sunk my teeth into my lip to stop myself outright begging him, or yelling at him for being stupid enough to go. "Carlisle…"

"I'll be okay…it'll only be a few days…" he told me, trying to convince both of us. "Just a few days and then I'll be back." Kissing me gently, he cuddled into my side, pushing his laptop onto the table so he could get closer.

Giving in and knowing that this was happening and there was nothing I could do about it, I just hugged him tightly, kissing his forehead. "I'll drive you to the airport. I love you."

.

.

Things seemed even tighter the next morning. The flight wasn't until one, and he didn't have to check in until twelve, but we were both up at five anyway. We didn't need to leave until nine.

Carlisle was doing really well at keeping it together. I was more jittery than he was, unable to keep my hands off him. I stood in front of him while he sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his shoulders and his neck as he leaned his head against my stomach. He was focused on taking deep, slow breaths, lightly toying the fabric of my pants as I played with his hair, both of us trying to satisfy a deep need for intimacy before we were separated.

He mumbled something about showering, numbly finding a clean change of clothes. I caught his wrist as he passed me again, not ready to be apart yet. "Can I come with you?" I asked him softly, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles.

Nodding, he kept hold of my hand as he pulled me into the bathroom. "…I'm nervous…" he admitted as we stood under the water. That much was obvious; he was a little too pale, and his eyes were dark with anxiety.

"I know. You look tired," I sighed, holding my hand against the side of his face. Automatically, he leaned his cheek against my fingers.

"…Couldn't sleep last night…"

"It'll be over soon." I was trying to assure myself as much as I was him; I couldn't stomach him being gone. Having him in my arms was comforting, but it wasn't going to last long today. "Do you want to try and nap for a little while before we have to leave? We still have an hour, and I could stay with you?" I wanted to cuddle him, mostly, while I still had the opportunity.

"Yeah, okay…" He nodded slowly, his arms around my neck as he hugged me.

After we were finished and dry, we sat on the bed together again. Despite being exhausted, Carlisle couldn't sleep, lying with his head in my lap while I leaned back against the headboard. The time passed far too quickly, and all too soon we were in the car and on the way to the airport.

.

.

Carlisle had planned on it taking a week, hoping it would be an overestimation and he'd be back sooner. Letting him get out of the car at the airport was pure agony, and I'd had to force myself not to engage the child-locks in my car and not letting him go. He didn't cry, thank fuck, because if he had, I would have lost it. We'd driven in silence to the airport, but he'd hugged me tightly before disappearing through customs.

My eyes were burning as I settled in to watch TV when night fell, knowing that he was miles away from me and on another continent. I missed him horribly and he'd only been gone a few hours; I had no idea how I was going to manage a week without him.

Suddenly, I was very thankful for him keeping stuff here; despite being washed, his sweatshirt still smelt like him, and I took it to bed with me. It was the closest I could get to him while he was gone, but I missed his goodnight kisses and his cuddles and 'I love you's'. I missed having my arms around him, and I missed him wrapping his body around mine whenever I tried to shift. I just missed him.

It hurt even worse that I knew he wasn't happy; whatever was happening with his father wasn't easy for him, and I wanted nothing more than to hold him until he felt safe again.

I'd emailed him as soon as I had gotten home, making him promise to do that same; the cost of international calling was pretty shitty. His plane wouldn't have landed yet, though, and I knew I wouldn't hear from him until it did. I hoped he would eat on the plane; he'd not had anything since the phone call. He'd barely spoke to me.

I went to work like normal the next morning, but my phone was a dead weight in my pocket, silent. I knew I was horrible to be around at the moment; my co-workers must have hated me. I spent the entire day sulking, slowly working through the pile of papers in front of me. I couldn't concentrate, though. Not until I knew he'd landed safety.

I let out a sigh of relief when his email finally popped up in my inbox. He's sent me an overly cheery message, still trying to pretend that everything was okay, and it made me uneasy; he couldn't keep this up.

Alistair and I were texting back and forth the whole week, trying to figure out how well Carlisle was handling it without being able to see him. We'd come to the conclusion that we were just going to have to wait it out and see what happened; there wasn't anything either of us could do about it considering the body of water that was separating us from London.

I was willing Friday to come; I wanted my boy back in my bed. I was literally counting the hours before he came back. I'd survived three days so far. Barely.

.

.

"Carlisle." I smiled upon answering the phone, a weight lifting off my chest at the sound of his voice. His plane landed tomorrow night, so the call was confusing considering the price, but welcome all the same. "I can't wait to have you back."

"That's…that's why I'm calling you," he started slowly. His voice was a little hollow, but I put it down to a poor quality phone line.

"Ten tomorrow night, right? I think Alistair wants to come too-"

"Garrett," he cut me off sharply. "I'm not coming home tomorrow."

It was blunt and sudden, and I almost choked. "What?"

"I'm not flying back tomorrow," he repeated, softly now, and I could hear the stress in his voice.

"Then…how much longer?" I was scared to hear the answer; it felt like a bloody eternity since the last time I'd seen him, and I'd implode within the next week if I couldn't get him home safe.

"I-I…maybe a month?"

"What? _Carlisle?"_ I whined pleadingly. "Why? What happened to a week? A fucking _month?"_

"…my dad died last night, Gar…I-I have to organised the funeral and clear the property and get his insurance sorted out and…"

My heart sank, and I was suddenly nauseous. "Are you okay?"

He hesitated, and the breath he let out shook. "…I want to come home…" he mumbled. "…I miss you…"

"I miss you too, Carlisle. So much. I love you."

"…I don't know what to do, Garrett- His insurance is fucked up and they won't pay out, which means I cant get the funeral to go ahead and he hasn't paid his fucking mortgage in months and his bank is down my throat, and I can't- I can't-" He cut himself off, in tears and panicking. "I-I can't do this- I can't- Gar, I want to go home…" His voice was slightly muffled, presumably by his hand as he tried to wipe tears away. "I can't do this by myself."

Pacing up and down the kitchen, I stopped to lean my forehead against the wall. "Shh, Carlisle, where are you now? Are you safe?" I asked him quietly.

"…yeah…I'm supposed to be going to get dinner…" He sounded absolutely miserable, and I would have done anything to take all of this away.

"But?" Hearing his hesitation, I added: "Tell me, Carlisle."

"…I feel really sick…I'm just going to go to bed…" he mumbled.

"You need to eat, though; you can't starve yourself," I reminded him, on the brink of begging him.

"…I can't right now, Gar…"

.

.

"I want to come with you."

He'd emailed me yesterday upon my prompt for the date of the funeral, and it was in two days' time. He was trying to sound calm when he spoke to me, and his messages could have been penned by someone who was coping, but I knew Carlisle, and I knew he was falling apart.

"I don't want you to go alone."

That was enough to reduce him to tears, and he was simultaneous pleading that he wanted me there and telling me not to come. "I-I miss you…"

"I know, I miss you too. I've got four days off, and I want fly out to be with you. Do you…do you want me to do that?" I asked carefully, biting my lip.

"Yeah- I want you- please, Garrett- I love you-"

"I'll book the tickets tonight, alright? I can't stay long, but I'll come for as long as I can," I promised.

.

.

Shoving stuff in a bag, I tried to figure out what I was supposed to take. I'd never travelled overseas before, and I also wasn't sure about the funeral. I threw in the most formal clothing I had short of a suit, and zipped the bag up. Even if it was just for the weekend, seeing Carlisle again was going to be a relief. _And_ I couldn't help being a little excited about going to a foreign place, being the tourist I was.

Carlisle met me at the airport gates, and I dropped my bag, wrapping him in a crushing hug. He immediately leant up to kiss me, squeezing my hand tightly as we walked toward the taxi stand.

"Are you okay? How was your flight?" he asked anxiously, concerned about _my_ wellbeing. Adorable idiot.

"It was fine, Carlisle." I slept through it. As we sat next to each other in the taxi, I shuffled closer to him along the seat to wrap my arms around him, kissing the top of his head. "Are _you_ okay? Me and Alistair have been worried."

Tangling his fingers in my sweatshirt, he leant his head against my shoulder. "I missed you so much…"

Rubbing his hand, I kissed him again. "I'm here now…How is everything going?"

He looked away, instantly on edge. "I have to find a real-estate agent so I can sell the property, and I'm starting to get behind at work, and I'm scared my boss might be upset with me and he's only just promoted me and I don't want him to fire me…" Trying to smother the panic attack didn't quite work, and his hold on me tightened.

"Hold on, you're still trying to work while your over here?" I asked sceptically, frowning.

He nodded slowly. "I'm doing it by correspondence…"

" _Carlisle_ ," I scolded, shaking my head. "You'll make yourself sick."

"What choice do I have?" he countered. "The world just doesn't stop because something happened to my father…"

Sighing, I tried not to smash my head into the window out of frustration. It was misdirected worry, but I couldn't take it out on my boyfriend. "I know. Just tell me how I can help, and I'll do it."


	37. Chapter 37

**Sorry it's a day late, I have exams at the moment and I'm drowning.**

It was early still, not quite seven AM, but Carlisle was already restless, barely asleep and tossing and turning. He was exhausted, though, and I was trying to sooth him before he woke up again; I wasn't sure how much longer he could go without having a decent night's sleep, and he needed to get all the rest he was able to.

Rubbing his arm over the bed covers, I tried to get him to relax again. I felt like shit – jetlagged and emotionally drained – and my eyes hurt to keep open, but I was sure he felt worse. I wanted cuddles, seeming as I'd be losing him again soon and the comfort of his arms around me was too nice to resist, but I couldn't warrant waking him up for it.

He moved again, his breathing quickening, and I shuffled closer, running my hand up and down his side.

"It's alright," I murmured to him, keeping my voice low; I wasn't sure what his level of consciousness was, but I could see he was scared. I let whatever the attack was continue, until he was trembling slightly and curling up to protect himself. He couldn't make a sound, but I knew this can't have been good, and I wasn't sure whether it was worse to let him suffer, or to wake him up.

"Carlisle." I nudged him, a little more harshly when he didn't respond, and kissed his forehead when he managed to wake up again. "Are you okay?" Running my fingers through his hair to get it off his face, I leaned over him a little, hugging him gently.

Freeing his hands from the blankets, he wrapped his arms around my neck, pulling me into him and burying his face in my shoulder as he nodded. The warmth of his body made me even more sleepy, and I was struggling to stay awake now. "…I'm okay…"

I kissed him gently before lying back against the mattress with a wary sigh. Now he was awake, I had no qualms about shifting him back against me, moulding my body around his while he curled up against my chest.

"Get some more sleep, Gar. We don't have to be anywhere until eleven."

I wasn't about to argue with that.

.

.

It was raining, which was fitting, though Carlisle had assured me it was always raining here. There was only the two of us there, aside from a priest and a grave worker, standing in the middle of a cemetery while we prepared to lower the casket into the hole. Beside me, Carlisle was in tears, desperately trying not to cry but failing miserably. I wrapped my arm around his waist, pulling him against my side and kissing the top of his head.

No one had anything to say, and my boyfriend shook with silent sobs as the final prayer came to a finish. He turned away as the first shovel full of dirt fell upon the casket, and I hugged him tightly, holding him against my body to stop him bolting.

"It's okay," I whispered to him. "It's over now."

"…I never thought I'd be doing this…" he whispered back.

"I know, I'm sorry." Despite our setting, all I could focus on was how cold he was, shivering and shaking, and how much weight he'd lost in the week or so we'd been apart. "Do you want to go home?" I waited until he'd nodded, then thanked the other two men for their service, holding Carlisle's hand as we walked back to the hotel.

He ate the tiniest amount of dinner, but it took him almost forty minutes to get through it. I didn't pester him to eat more or hurry up, pleased just to see him swallow anything. Bed time came around at eight thirty, and I wasn't about to complain; jetlag was killing me, and I was more than happy to be lying under the blankets, cuddled up to my boyfriend for the second time in far too long.

"…Garrett…I have to go to the house tomorrow…can you come with me?" he asked softly, tense in my arms.

"Of course I will, Carlisle, it's okay," I assured him, kissing him gently. "I'll help you with anything I can while I'm with you; just tell my what you need."

"I just need you."

.

.

The house looked fine on the outside. The lawn was a little long, and the garden beds over grown, but the paint on the porch was still perfect, and the windows were clean.

My fingers were tingling as Carlisle squeezed my hand so tightly he cut the circulation off, and he'd frozen at the bottom step leading up to the front door. I glanced over at him, and his eyes were wide, apprehensive at even being on the property.

"Are you alright?" I asked softly, running my thumb over his fingers.

He nodded without saying anything, wincing as the floorboards creaked as we stepped on them. Unlocking the door slowly, he entered the house ahead of me, glancing around the room. Almost robotically, he started pulling everything out of the cupboards, setting food in one pile to be thrown out, and dishes in the another to be packed into boxes. It smelt rotten, but Carlisle didn't react to it, and I held my breath to keep from gagging. I followed his example, unsure what else there was for me to do, and I was too scared to ask.

It took most of the day to clean the first level of the house, and then we were standing next to each other on the landing of the staircase. "You want to do upstairs or the basement first?" I asked him carefully. He was so quiet it was starting to freak me out.

"Upstairs," he mumbled, sighing and climbing the stair case. There were a few bedrooms and a bathroom up there, and I felt far more invasive working up there; these were people's personal things. My boyfriend seemed to know his way around, so I was simultaneously trying to help and keep out of his way.

"Have you been here before?" I asked after a while, wanting conversation more than anything.

"I grew up here," he mumbled.

I almost dropped the books I was holding, a little lightheaded suddenly. "Carlisle…you didn't tell me that…"

"It doesn't matter." He looked faintly ill though, and I knew that it did. "This is the end of everything anyway."

Setting down the books, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into my chest. "I wish you'd told me before we came in," I scolded him gently. "I didn't realise this was _that_ house."

He sighed quietly as I kissed the side of his face, and leant his head on my shoulder. "…I knew you'd feel weird about it…"

I squeezed him, shaking my head. "Are you alright?"

There was a pause, before he gave in. "…I can't go in the basement…" His voice shook, and I didn't have to ask.

"I'll do it then, if-"

"No- leave it, I don't want you down there, Garrett…the real-estate agent can deal with it…" Pushing himself back from me, he went back to sorting through endless amounts of crap.

"Where's all this stuff going, anyway?" I asked after a little while.

"Charity, hopefully. And if they don't want, I'll burn it." His reply was flat and final, and I didn't dare contradict him on it.

.

.

It took us until just after three AM, and my boyfriend was barely functioning. He looked ill, and I kept hold of his hand as we walked back to the hotel. "Do you want to get dinner? Are you hungry?" he asked me quietly, visibly defeated.

I _was_ hungry; we hadn't eaten since we'd gone into the house. I agreed and we stopped at the nearest open takeaways, but we didn't have much choice seeming as it was a stupid hour of the morning. After ordering, we took the food back with us – I still couldn't stomach eating in public, despite it being dark and having no one to watch it, and Carlisle just couldn't bring himself to eat in the first place.

We ended up back at the hotel, wrapped in blankets despite the thermostat and watching movies despite the time. I was scared to leave him again tomorrow; he looked absolutely shattered.

"How's the jetlag?" he asked, shuffling closer to rest his head on my chest.

"I'm okay…Are you?" Squeezing him and rubbing his arm, I kissed the top of his head.

He just nodded, burying his face in my shirt. "...I want to go home, though…"

"I know, Carlisle…the worst is over now though, right?" It fucking better be; there was only so much a person could handle.

"…I hope so…"

.

.

"Being here again is fucking with my head…I want to come home…"

"We want you to come home too, Carlisle. I miss you." I forced back the lump in my throat, not letting myself cry while he could still hear it. I'd cried at the airport, as soon as he was gone, and I was worried sick. It had been fifteen days since I'd last seen him.

"I miss you too…fuck, I even miss the Christmas tree…" He tried to laugh, but it was swallowed by tears. "The property sold yesterday…"

Breathing a sigh of relief, I realised that this would all be over soon. "You're coming back soon, then?"

"Yeah…maybe a week…I'll be home in time for our first Christmas…"

"Don't worry about Christmas now, alright? We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." I stayed on the line with him until his phone beeped with a warning about a lack of credit _again_ , making us both groan.

I fell back onto my bed and folded my arms over my face as we said goodbye. I felt absolutely ill about having him alone while he sounded so tired and downright broken. I didn't know what was going to come home to me, and part of me didn't want to know. Three weeks was a long time to have been apart while he was going through this. Still, I couldn't wait to have him back.

It wasn't just Carlisle that I wanted. I missed the constant affection, and having someone else to talk to and wake up with every day. In pure desperation, I sent a text to my brother, proving once and for all that I was still a whiney child. He directed me to mum, and within minutes there was a dinner organised for tonight. I had the best damn family.

.

.

"What have you got to say for yourself, Gar?" Eleazar asked during a lull in the conversation around the table, turning the attention to me. I hadn't told them what was happening, so he didn't know not to push me.

"Don't," I snapped at him without meaning to; the name had hit a nerve. It brought on a pang of longing, and I repressed a tired sigh. I'd hoped that seeing my family might help to distract me, but it really wasn't, and I just missed my boyfriend.

He grinned, chuckling to himself. "Its only cute when your boy does it, huh?" he teased, pleased with himself.

I didn't take the bait, gritting my teeth and keeping my eyes on the table. The next comment regarding Carlisle pushed me over the edge; my temper was short to begin with, but with everything happening at the moment, I was particularly shaped edged. "Shut up, Eleazar. Don't be a dick."

"Someone's moody," he continued to tease, not dropping it. It was just like we were kids again, bickering and fighting. Mum was frowning at both of us, but Eleazar was having fun winding me up, and I was pissed. "Do you need a nap, Gar?"

"Fuck off," I repeated, biting my tongue to keep from snapping something harsher. "You're such an asshole."

"We're adults," mum reminded us sharply. "Not teenagers." She made eye contact with Carmen, and she looked uncomfortable too.

Both of us fell quiet, but my brother was holding back laughter. Unable to stand it anymore, I stormed into the kitchen, slamming the door behind me. Forcing myself to take a few deep breaths, I leaned back against the bench, rubbing my face. This wasn't helping at all. Throwing a temper tantrum wasn't exactly making me feel better either. My phone weighed heavy in my pocket, and I tried to gage the time in London at the moment; fuck, I wanted him back so badly.

"Garrett," mum murmured as she came into the room behind me. "What on earth is all this about?" She didn't sound mad, more a little worried. She stood in front of me, seeing through absolutely everything.

I gave in to wanting the comfort, hugging her. "I never thought I could miss someone so much," I sighed. "I just want him to come home safe."

"I know, sweetheart." She rubbed her hand down my back, squeezing me a little tighter. "Carlisle is an adult; he can handle it. Losing a parent is hard on anyone, but we all get through it."

Slowly shaking my head, I swallowed the lump in my throat, finally surrendering; I was a breaking point, and badly needed to talk. "It's more than that. His dad…hurt him quite badly, and he's the one that's had to go and clean up the house and get rid of the property. And he's still trying to hold down a job while he's over there; he just sounds so tired when I talk to him and I feel so bad…"

Her frown grew, and I hoped she wouldn't ask me anymore; I didn't want to tell her something my boyfriend would be uncomfortable with her knowing when he came back. "Carlisle was abused-" she started, but I cut her off.

"Mum," I warned.

"Is that why he's so nervous of your father?" she asked anyway. At my silence, her lips thinned out into a flat line. "If we know what's wrong, then we can find a way to make this easier for him when he is back."

I sighed; she was right, as usual. "He doesn't handle dad's negativity towards him well because it's too close to what happened to him." It was awkward, and I was uncomfortable without Carlisle monitoring the conversation. "I'm not sure that he actually understands what a family is supposed to be, and he's terrified of Christmas…I don't think I'm going to be able to bring him over here on Christmas day; he wasn't feeling good about it before all this with his father happened, and now…"

"If he can't handle it, love, perhaps we can see the two of you in the new year?" she suggested. "We don't need to force him into something that's too much." She was nervous about it too, I could tell, and I prayed she wouldn't work up enough courage to ask whatever she was about to. "Are you two…" _Oh for fucks sake._

"Mum, we're using protection, if that's what you're asking," I grumbled, fighting to keep from blushing and trying to figure out why the actual fuck she wanted to have this conversation now, of all times. "We're not children; I'm twenty-seven. And neither of us can get pregnant."

She shook her head, rolling her eyes at me. "Not that, Garrett. I mean, is Carlisle…okay with intimacy? Is he giving you what you need?" she asked gently. I could see her mind racing, and I wasn't quite sure how to interrupt her. Her apprehension toward my boyfriend was growing again, and I couldn't let that happen. Not now. Everything about the conversation was wrong though, and I hated it – it pissed me off as much as it embarrassed me. "Perhaps if you two aren't able to work together romantically, then you could be friends; it can be hard for someone who has trust issues to reciprocate feelings-"

"Stop. Stop right there," I snapped, not able to listen to this anymore and quickly becoming upset again. "I'm not having this conversation. You like him; don't change that now. I love him a lot, he's my best friend, and he's living with me as my partner." Beyond annoyed, I clenched my teeth. Berating my brother was one thing, but yelling at my mother when she thought she was helping was another entirely. I gripped my keys in my pocket, ready to leave; this was far worse than being alone in my apartment.

"Alright, love. But has he ever had any counselling for what happened? It could help him if he's struggling-"

"No, mum, I don't think so. I'm sure if he wanted it, he would have done it already. I'm going home."

"Garrett," she sighed, grabbing my hand as I turned away. "I just need to know that you're safe with him. If you love him, and he makes you happy, then we'll love him too, despite his past-"

"You cant turn on him just because his father hurt him, it doesn't work like that!" I growled, my voice too loud for the kitchen. No doubt, everyone else had heard my outburst too and I immediately regretted it. "It's not his fault, and he's doing his best to cope with it now. I need him to accepted as part of this family, or he's never going to be able to sit at a table comfortably with you and dad."

"I know, love. Of course he's part of this family. He's a sweet boy, and so long as you love him as much as you do, we'll do anything to make this easier for him." She hugged me again, and I gave in. "Now, go and sit down and finish your dinner."

The room was silent and nobody was speaking as I sat at the table again, and the conversation was strained as we continued eating. Being with my parents was nice in the end, and I ended up staying the night so I didn't have to be alone.

Three days, and my boy would be back in my arms.


	38. Chapter 38

**I promise I'm not dead! We should be back to weekly updates again, if life allows. This chapter is a bit of a jumble, but I wanted to post something to get back on track, and I've played around with it so much I cant see straight anymore. Apologies in advance!**

 **And CentauRita, your turkey floatation devices were of much help ;)**

.

.

The flight had been delayed several hours, hampered by British weather. Of course, if there was a perfect time for a bad storm, it was when my boyfriend was on another continent and absolutely miserable. He'd sent me a very panicky email from the other airport, frantic that he might not be able to get home today. I'd checked the flights before I left home though, and his had eventually taken off. He was due to land any minute now, and my heart was drumming away in my chest with anticipation. As cheesy as it was, I'd written out his name in big letters, holding the sign as I waited on the other side of the arrival gate.

He threw his arms around me, burying his face in my shoulder and managing to drop his phone and keys on the ground in the process. It had scared the shit out of me; I hadn't seen him approach and I laughed as he knocked me back a few feet.

"Carlisle." I hugged him automatically, breathing a deep sigh of relief to _finally_ have him back. "God, I missed you so much." I pulled him closer, squeezing him and shifting him against me. It was only after I ran my hand down his back that I realised I could feel every vertebra along his spine, and his ribs were far more defined than they should be. It wasn't a battle for now, though; he would put on weight again as things got better. I leaned down to bring our lips together, ready to kiss every inch of him just to prove that he was really here.

"Love you," he mumbled into me, tangling his fingers in my shirt to hold me closer. The reunion was happy on my behalf, but Carlisle was very subdued – understandably. He leaned his forehead against my shoulder, tightly squeezing the fabric as his breaths came in short, sharp gasps; not quite crying, but very close.

Rubbing his shoulder, I slid my hand up to gently cup the side of his face. My thumb came away wet with tears as it brushed across his cheek. "Ready to go home?" I murmured. The last thing we needed was for him to have a panic attack in the middle of the airport.

He nodded, and it was clear that he was utterly exhausted. It took him a few attempts to get his seatbelt done up in the car, and I suspected that he was a little dizzy after being on the plane for so long. It was so painful to watch that I reached over and did it up for him. 'Home and safe' was the ultimate objective now.

I put my hand on his leg, gently squeezing his thigh and only just repressing a frown at how cold he was. "Do you want to get something to eat on the way home, or-" The look on his face cut me off; he looked like he wanted to vomit at the mere mention of food. "Just want to go to bed, hmm?" I guessed.

"Yeah," he admitted, wrapping his fingers around mine. "It's been kinda a long day."

 _Understatement of the year._ "How was your flight?"

"Fine, once we were in the air," he sighed, trying to force a laugh. It didn't work, and he rubbed his face with his free hand, repressing a frustrated groan.

Quickly leaning over to kiss his cheek, I started the car. "You're here now; that's the main thing. Alistair is going to want to talk to you too; he's been worried." He was immediately a little anxious at the mention of his best friend, and I realised that dealing with Alistair was probably the last thing he wanted after having to endure the last twenty-four hours. "I'll tell him you're okay, and he can wait until tomorrow," I assured him, back-peddling.

"So, are you two friends, now?" he asked, almost managing a smile.

"Maybe not after I tell him not to come over today," I chuckled, running my thumb over his fingers.

"If he's going to be upset, then today-" Again, it had started him off panicking.

"He'll be fine, Carlisle, he just wants to know you're okay. He'll understand."

As we drove, my boyfriend became quieter and quieter. The continuous rocking of the car was making sleeping hard to resist, and he was battling to remain conscious. It was better than getting motion sick, at least. "You can go to sleep, it's okay. I'll wake you up when we get home?" There was no way he was going to be able to stay awake the long journey anyway, so there was no point in making him try and force it.

He offered me an apologetic smile, leaning against the window and his hand, and was gone within seconds.

.

.

Once we got back to our apartment, waking him up seemed cruel. The novelty of having him back wasn't overshadowing everything anymore, and I was acutely aware of how unwell he looked. Bed would be better for him, though; it had to happen.

"Carlisle…we're home," I murmured, rubbing his shoulder until he glanced up at me. He fumbled with his seatbelt and then with the car door, eventually coming free and making it to my side. While I had the key in the lock, he was leaning against me, his arms loosely wrapped around my waist. Sleeping in the car had disorientated him, and he was quite off-balanced as we climbed the stairs.

It was only lunch time, but I couldn't stomach the thought of being apart from him and followed him to bed. Clumsily getting changed, Carlisle crawled into the blankets beside me and curled up against my side. The blankets seemed warmer with him in them, and the bed was suddenly more comfortable. I hugged him, tracing circles against his back as he started to relax again. His fingers tightened around my shirt as he leaned his head against my chest, and I promised to stay until he woke up again.

.

.

The change in time zone had obliterated his sleeping pattern, and at three AM he was up again and unable to settle. I had to work in the morning, and _really_ didn't want to sit up all night, but I was scared to leave him by himself; he seemed too fragile and I was waiting for him to crash.

My eyelids were heavy and I fought to keep my eyes open. It didn't help that my boyfriend was so withdrawn; he couldn't hold a conversation. "Do you want dinner, Carlisle?" Eating was a good distraction to keep me awake, and I sorted through the left overs in the fridge to find something to satisfy the cravings. Feeding him was definitely appealing too. "I can heat something up for you?"

"No, thanks…I'm okay, Garrett. You can go back to bed; you still have to get up in the morning…" he mumbled, picking at the table.

Sighing, I shut the fridge. I badly wanted to go to sleep again, and didn't really have it in me to fight him. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm alright…it's just that it would be midday in London and I'm used to that time, and…" There was underlying anxiety in his voice which I couldn't quite pin down.

I couldn't resist the pull of bed. I kissed him gently, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance. "Do you want me to wake you up before I leave tomorrow?"

His arms found their way around my waist as he nodded. "Yes, please; I'm not ready to let you go again without saying goodbye."

"Don't stay up all night," I murmured, tilting his chin up with my thumb to force him to look at me.

His eyes met mine, and he frowned a little. "Goodnight, Garrett."

.

.

There wasn't any need for me to wake Carlisle up the next morning; he'd never managed to fall asleep again. It had really taken it's toll, too; he was so jittery he could barely function. Sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms wrapped around his legs, he watched me get ready for work with wide eyes.

"I'll see you tonight," I murmured, kissing the top of his head. The gesture was somewhat mothering, but I couldn't help wanting to comfort him.

He automatically wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his face in my shirt as he started to hyperventilate. His hold on me tightened, and my hand landing on his back as I slid my fingers up to rub his neck. "…n-no…Garrett, please…"

I wasn't quite sure what bit he was protesting to, but I slowly put my bag back down after seeing the expression on his face. Touching him the way I was, I realised I was tracing the far too prominent outline of his spine, and it made me feel a little sick. "Come to the kitchen, I'll make you breakfast, then." I took my hands off him just so I wouldn't feel it anymore.

"…but…" He winced as our eyes met, quickly looking down at his lap again and nibbling his lip. The fear in his voice made me turn to face him again, and he was bordering on tears, struggling to breathe and shaking a little. "You have to go…"

"I'll stay home with you today, Carlisle," I assured him, sighing as I sat next to him on the bed. I was craving the contact as much as he was, and spending the day with him wasn't at all unappealing. It would save my anxiety too; I would only worry about him if I went, and I certainly wouldn't be able to concentrate. "Let's go get something to eat."

Again, he shook his head. In an attempt to force himself to calm down, he uncurled himself, hugging me instead. I gave his thigh a gentle squeeze, pulling his legs over my lap so I could get him closer. The security of his arms around me was almost enough to put me at ease about the whole situation. Almost.

My phone hummed in my pocket, and Carlisle froze at the vibration. I knew immediately who it was. "Alistair," I told him softly. I'd told him that he was tired after we'd gotten home last night, and he had accepted it without complaint, but he was as worried as I was and couldn't keep it to himself for long. "He's been asking about you every day, and-"

"I don't want to see him…" he interrupted suddenly. Something about the mention of his best friend had made him squirm and he was suddenly uncomfortable in my arms.

"He wants to see you," I chuckled, briefly bringing our lips again.

He cringed back. "I can't, Garrett."

"He misses you," I murmured as my smile faded. Purposefully holding my phone where my boyfriend couldn't see the screen, I quickly flicked Alistair a reply. Telling him that Carlisle was tired wasn't a lie, but I knew it wasn't the whole truth either.

"…I miss him too, but I can't see him yet…" The conversation was obviously winding him up, and he was starting to push away from me. Separation wasn't something I could cope with yet, and I wanted to calm him before he lost his shit and ripped free.

"That's alright, we can have him over another day," I told him slowly, tightening my hold on him. My fingers slipped under his t-shirt, and I traced circles against the small of his back. The small touch encouraged him to burying his face in my neck, and I sighed in relief.

.

.

Carlisle wasn't really capable of doing anything other than staring at the TV all day, but I wasn't convinced that he was actually watching the movie that was playing. It had taken a while to talk him into bed, and for the first hour he'd spent lying next to me, he had been unbearably tense.

Now though, he was sleepy and semi-relaxed, lying with his head on my chest as he cuddled into my side. Exhaustion was quickly catching up to him, and sleep was hard to resist with me rubbing his back. I ran my fingers through his hair to brush it back off his face, leaning down to kiss him. "Please sleep. You'll feel better."

He nodded tiredly, unable to stifle a yawn as I pulled the blankets closer around him. The warmth of his body and the feel of him of him against my side made my eyelids heavy. Combined with the sleeplessness of last night, I was started to fall asleep too.

.

.

I _had_ to work the next day; there was no way out of it. My boyfriend looked like he was going to vomit as I left, but he still hadn't eaten anything. He'd assured me he would be fine, but it really wasn't convincing. I spent the day literally counting the minutes until I was home with him again. At least it was only another few days until work broke off for the Christmas holidays.

I unlocked the front door as quietly as I could, not wanting to wake him up if he had somehow settled, but he pounced on me the minute I had it open. "Hey." Smiling was inevitable, and I rested my chin on the top of his head as he hugged me.

"How was your day?" he asked shakily, trying to maintain normality. When he pulled back from me, he was on the brink of tears again, sinking his teeth into his lip to keep from making any sound.

Frowning, I held my hand against his cheek. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He nodded, wrapping his arms around my neck again as I touched his back to usher him closer. The tension in his shoulders dropped as I squeezed him. "I made dinner…"

Assuming that meant that he was going to eat, I smiled in relief, nudging my way past him to get inside. "Thank you, but are you alright?" I set about setting the table while Carlisle pulled the food out of the oven. His hands were shaking so violent he was having problems keeping the plates steady. "Did you get any rest today?"

His silence told me enough, and his refusal to make eye contact only further confirmed my suspicion.

I put down what I was holding, taking his hands hostage to stop him fussing. "You're jet-lagged, Carlisle; you need to sleep. You're going to make yourself unwell." I could already see it in his face, that he wasn't feeling good.

"I can't…"

"What'd you mean you can't? You look exhausted." Trapping him in my arms, I rubbed his back as he groaned quietly against my shoulder.

"…I am, but whenever I sleep, I have the worst nightmares – you can laugh; I know it's stupid – and it makes me feel sick." Trying to laugh through the tears wasn't helping, and he was quickly falling apart. "I thought coming home would make everything alright, but I feel like shit and I don't know what to do and I keep having panic attacks and I can't eat and-" His speak became too fast and panicked for me to understand and I enclosed him in my arms.

I sighed, resting my cheek on the top of his head. This wasn't what I had expected at all; it didn't make sense to me that he was still miserable. "It's over now, Carlisle," I reasoned. "You're okay again."

He shoved back without warning, pushing me away. "No, I'm not! If it was over, it wouldn't hurt this much!"

I tried to keep clam; realistically, I should have expected him to be emotionally volatile. It didn't stop it coming as a shock though. "Calm down. You need to have something to eat, and then you need to go to bed."

"Don't talk to me like I'm a fucking child," he spat back.

"I'm just telling you the truth." I'd never been good in fights, and I'd always had problems keeping my voice low once someone was yelling at me. Now, I was fighting every instinct I had so that I didn't shout at my boyfriend. It was difficult though, and I was struggling. "Don't yell at me."

"Enjoy your food," he grumbled, storming away from me and disappearing into the bedroom.

I forced myself to sit down; if I followed him, we would fight, and neither of us could handle that. God help him if he chose to be this difficult over Christmas. I wasn't sure what I was going to do with him yet. Dinner tasted bitter while he was away, and I tried not to be mad at him.

Alistair decided it was a good time to probe me about him again, and I swallowed my temper. "Call Alistair. He wants to speak to you," I shouted down the hallway, shoving a spoonful of pasta between my lips a second later.

"No," was his sharp response.

"Carlisle, for god's sake," I grumbled at my plate. "Stop sulking; you need to eat something."

He appeared again, obviously angry at me. "I don't want it-"

"You haven't eaten since you got home-"

"And I'll throw it up if I do."

"Either sit down and eat with me, or go to bed. I don't want to fight with you."

"Then stop talking to me like I'm a little kid!"

I slammed my fork down against my plate. "Stop acting like one!" A tense silence overcame us, but I was still wound up and frustration was bubbling underneath my calm exterior. "This wasn't easy for me either, you know. You've been gone for a month."

"I'm sorry my father died, Garrett," he snapped at me, a mocking apology. "I'm sorry I tried to help my family."

"Carlisle, you told me yourself that you ran away from them. You should be happy that that man is dead. Jesus."

He rolled his eyes at me, and he couldn't resist baiting me. "Of course you don't understand; your family is perfect."

"Every family has it's problems. I just don't understand why you want to be part of a family that didn't want you; it doesn't make sense to me. Mum said that maybe counselling might help you; perhaps she's right-"

"You told your mother?! Garrett!" Straight away, he was hyperventilating, suddenly biting back violent sobs. "B-but she liked me, a-and it's Christmas time…"

My heart sank, and I suddenly didn't feel like eating anymore either. Making him cry was the last thing I wanted. Any anger I'd felt dissolved instantly. "She still loves you, it's alright. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have told her; I was stressed, and it was an accident. I'm sorry." Pushing my luck, I crossed over to him, hugging him tightly. "I'm really sorry."

"I-I'm sorry for yelling at you, I don't want to fight…" he mumbled, allowing the contact. "I'm just really…"

"Overwhelmed?" I kissed him as he nodded timidly, gently running my fingers through his hair to get it off his face and make him look at me. "Sorry I upset you. Would it help if I stayed with you while you slept? I can take my holiday leave early and stay home with you?"

"You're supposed to be spending that time with your family, though…" Still tearful, he was trying his best to calm down again.

"You're the person I love most, Carlisle, if I'm spending it with anyone, it's going to be you," I promised, leaning down to kiss him again. "I'll message my boss tonight, and you can sleep all day tomorrow."

.

.

He slept for the best part of three days, hardly eating and barely functioning enough to move when he was awake. I was more than happy to spend as much time in bed with him as possible; whenever I lay next to him, he would unconsciously shuffle into my side, cuddling closer when I wrapped my arm around him. His continuous need for contact would have driven me insane, had I not wanted it as much as he did.

Alistair spent a lot of time hovering as well, either texting me or breaking into my apartment. He'd been almost as relieved as I had been to have Carlisle back. He was also a lot better at nagging than I was. "You need to sit down and eat a proper meal today," he warned, watching disapprovingly as Carlisle stumbled into the kitchen.

"…don't…" he mumbled, basically falling into my arms as I attempted to steady him. He was still so cold, and I couldn't figure out why I couldn't warm him up. Before I could say anything, Alistair was back at it.

"Hey, you're the one that decided to bloody fast while you were gone. Is the food in London really that terrible?" It was only half teasing, and he couldn't hide his concern. "What do you weigh now? Three pounds?"

"…shut up…don't be a jerk…"

"I'm serious, Carlisle, you look like shit."

"I'm fine, Alistair, just tired." He was vaguely pissed off now, not really having the energy to fight him, but sick of us commenting on it all the time. Crossing his arms defensively, he settled into a seat, not looking at either of us.

"You look like you're about to drop dead, for god's sake; you're lucky I'm not dragging you into A&E this afternoon," he threatened.

Carlisle had had enough of it. "I'll eat tonight, just shut the fuck up about it."

Thankfully, Alistair had the good sense to keep his mouth closed, because the last thing either of them needed now was to argue. We were all running on raw nerves, and Carlisle certainly didn't have the stamina to keep any kind of emotional stability at the moment. Neither did Alistair, apparently. He groaned and leaned his head back against the wall, blowing out a frustrated breath, watching my boyfriend across the room.

Standing behind him, I rubbed the tops of Carlisle's arms to try and soothe him again. "We're just worried," I reminded him, leaning down to kiss his cheek before coming around to sit next to him.

He turned to face me, hugging me tightly and burying his face in my shoulder. "I know…I'm sorry."

"You're okay." Rubbing his back, I wasn't sure whether he was in tears or not. I rested my cheek on top of his head, trying to calm him anyway. "We love you."

"…Christmas?" he asked anxiously.

"We'll deal with it when it happens." Two days.


	39. Chapter 39

**Merry Christmas and happy holidays, everyone!**

.

.

Christmas had never felt so heavy. The car was silent, beside for the sound of pouring rain against the windshield and the soft purr of the engine. "I can turn around, Carlisle. We can go home."

"I want you to have Christmas with your family," he mumbled, fidgeting nervously. "I'm not going to take that away from you."

Sighing, I reached over to rub his leg. "Tell me the minute this gets too much, alright?"

Although he nodded, I knew he wouldn't, and I was going to have to keep an eye on him. "Please don't worry about me, Garrett. I'll be okay," he promised. It was unconvincing, and wasn't a comfort to me. He looked fucking terrified.

I hugged him tightly once I was parked in my parent's driveway, kissing his cheek. "I'm not going to be upset if you want to go home early. Just tell me. And you need to say something if you're not feeling well." I blew out a stressed sigh; he's slept worse than usual last night, and the exhaustion was really showing through. The last thing I wanted was for him to have a panic attack in front of my family, and he already looked like he was going to throw up at any second. Over the last twenty four hours, I'd done everything in my power to make sure my father kept his mouth shut about Carlisle, and I just hoped my attempts were worth something.

He kept himself slightly behind me as I knocked on the door, only just holding his ground when mum opened it. She quickly enclosed us both in a hug, as excited as she usually was about the holiday. She not-so-subtly informed me that my brother was already there, and I silently cursed that we'd have to walk into an already crowded room.

"Merry Christmas, boys, I'm so glad you could come." She was smiling, but I could tell she was slightly uneasy, and her smile faded a little as she glanced over at Carlisle. "Come inside before you two freeze. Everyone else in in the longue."

I hoped to god she wouldn't say anything. The absolute last thing we needed now was a conversation about Carlisle's current state. He was watching the floor to avoid eye contact with her, letting go of my hand to fold his arms across his chest. I frowned involuntarily; this self-consciousness was new. Thankfully, she left it alone, taking us both through the house where we had to endure another round of hugs. Eleazar made a point of squeezing all the air out of my lungs as he wrapped his arms around me, and the gesture held more violence than affection. I grumbled at him, but couldn't help it and ended up laughing when he did.

"Brothers," mum murmured softly to Carlisle, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter how old they get, they're still like this. I just hope Garrett doesn't behave like a child at home."

Carlisle forced a laugh, visibly uneasy. "He's very good at home. I think I'm the messy one."

She rolled her eyes, rubbing the small of his back. "You don't have it in you to be messy, sweetheart. How's your new job?" Their conversation continued, and I sighed in relief as I watched the tension start to drop from Carlisle's shoulders. He seemed okay to be with my mother and Carmen, and dad seemed to be leaving him alone completely, which was fine by my book.

"Carlisle!" Kate shrieked as she ran into the longue, running and throwing herself at his legs.

He smiled awkwardly, glancing up to gauge everyone else's reaction. After no one reacted badly, he picked her up, hugging her carefully and listening to her indistinguishable gibberish.

Eleazar elbowed me, grinning. "Looks like you've been replaced, Uncle. I think she's Carlisle's girl now."

I shrugged, rolling my eyes but unable to resist a smile. "Yeah, well, he worked hard to win her over."

"Are you going to say hello to your old uncle, Kate, or does Garrett not matter now you've found a better one?" he called out to his daughter. That made them all laugh, and Carlisle set her on the ground so she could run to me.

"Did you forget about me, miss?" I teased, scooping her up. She continued to tell me all about Santa, and I was helpless but to listen to her story.

"So, are you and Carlisle going to adopt a child, or what? You'd make a good mother, Garrett?" Eleazar continued once Kate was gone again.

I pulled a face, and Carlisle abruptly interrupted, suddenly beside me. The reason for the quick movement became quite obvious when I realised my father had just come into the room. "We're going to get a puppy instead," he told him matter-of-factly.

"We've got no place for a puppy, and you know it," I chuckled, catching hold of his waist and pulling him into my side. I rubbed his arm, trying to distract him enough that he wouldn't panic.

"You just wait until they let me be manager of the store in town, and then we'll see," he teased me. I rolled my eyes, but underneath it all I knew he was still anxious, and that this playfulness had it's limits. I just hoped the crash wouldn't hit until we got home; he was already hyperventilating and very tense.

Are we ready to be parents then?" I squeezed him gently, badly wanting to rush him home and wrap him in blankets.

"Only if it's got four legs," he corrected innocently, his fingers tightening around the fabric of my shirt to calm himself down

"So, basically, you just want a puppy?" I laughed, rolling my eyes as he nodded and bit back a smile.

"When you two move into a place with a yard, I'll buy you one as a wedding gift," Eleazar announced, patting me on the back.

We sat down for lunch, and Carlisle kept hold of my hand, squeezing my fingers under the table. He had assured me that he was okay when I asked, but it was obviously a lie. His position wasn't helped by dad sitting directly across from him.

My father let the awkward silence between them weigh out for a while, but eventually couldn't resist commenting. "Are you feeling alright, Carlisle? You're very pale."

"Yes, sir," he answered nervously, his hold on me increasing.

"Everything with your dad is cleared up now?"

I almost groaned; of course he had to pick _that_ line of conversation. Trying to make eye contact with my father, I subtly shook my head at him, trying to get him to shut up. It seemed innocent; his intent wasn't to hurt my boyfriend, and in any other circumstance it would have been a caring question, but it was only upsetting Carlisle now.

"Y-yeah, it's…over…" he mumbled, refusing to look up from the table top.

Dad sat back, smiling a little. "I'm glad…You let us know if there's anything we can do to cheer you up a bit, alright?"

Just nodding, he was too nervous to do much else. I ran my thumb over the backs of his fingers, only just resisting dragging him out right now. As mum and Carmen set plates on the table, he looked like he was going to be sick, throwing an anxious glance at me.

"You don't have to, Carlisle," I assured him lowly. "Don't worry about it. We can leave now if it's too much."

"…I'm alright…" he whispered back. He managed a few mouthfuls of lunch, but couldn't handle any further conversation with my family. They left him alone, thankfully, and he stayed glued to my side for the rest of the time.

.

.

Although I usually stayed with mum and dad after Eleazar and his family left before dinner, I took Carlisle home as well. I wanted to get him out while things were still relatively good; I couldn't handle him having another bad Christmas, and needed to get him out before he couldn't take anymore. He was becoming a little unhinged, picking at his clothing and shifting uncomfortably. Both of my parents hugged him tightly and thanked us for coming, and we wished them goodnight before we left.

.

.

We showered quickly upon getting home, and Carlisle was dizzy as he stumbled around the bathroom. I fought hard not to react to how sick he looked, but found myself mentally tracing the overly prominent lines of his collarbones, frowning. He managed to get dressed and make it into the bedroom before losing his balance, and I grabbed his shoulders to steady him. "Are you alright?" I asked cautiously, ushering him into lying down.

"…Your father was good to me…" He glanced up at me as he spoke, smiling a little as our eyes met.

I slid my arms around him and leaned down to kiss him. "Thank god; I'd have to kick his ass if he was mean to you on Christmas day."

He didn't laugh, glancing down at our hands as I knotted our fingers together. "…I know it's not late, but will you stay for a while…?" he asked shyly.

In response, I pulled him to bed; I'd anticipated this fragility and it really wasn't coming as a surprise. "Carlisle, what happened that you're not telling me?" The question was like walking on glass, but I couldn't stand it any longer; I couldn't do anything about something he wasn't going to tell me about.

He froze, holding his breath. "…what do you mean…?"

"You're really not yourself." Trying to let him know that I wasn't upset, I kissed him gently, rubbing his side.

"…my father died, Garrett…"

"I know this is more than grief," I murmured to him. "You're pushing away Alistair, and you wont eat or sleep…it's been a month since the funeral, Carlisle. I know you've been really stressed and that you've been under a lot of pressure, but you're unsettled even though you're home now…I love you, and I can't help you get through anything that you wont tell me about."

Surprisingly, that was all it took for him to come undone. He hesitated first, but I knew it was coming. "…I-I wanted him to love me, and I thought that maybe if I went to him when he needed me, that he might not hate me so much…he just blamed me for everything…he died blaming me…everything that I always thought was my fault, he proved that it was…" Swallowing hard, he avoided looking at me. "…I wanted him to forgive me for everything that I did wrong, but that'll never happen now…and I don't know what I'm supposed to do…"

Shifting underneath him and pulling him against my side, I squeezed him tightly. "You're supposed to move forward and be happy," I murmured, kissing his neck as he lay with his head on my chest. "You don't need his forgiveness for that."

"But it hurts, Garrett…Up until now, I could have had a chance to fix everything between us, but he's gone and I'm stuck…" He was almost pleading with me, fighting crying. There was a pause where I didn't know what to say to him, and he contemplated telling me something else. "…I was with him when he died…and I was so relieved that he was gone at first, but…"

"You wanted to give him a second chance?" I realised, unable to keep the distaste out of my tone. That man needed to rot in hell, despite Carlisle's delusion that his father could redeem himself.

"…I wanted him to give me a second chance…" he mumbled. The conversation was pushing him over an edge; his breaths were fast and jagged, catching in his throat as he tried to explain to me what was wrong and struggled to find the words.

"Carlisle," I started, trying to soothe him, but he interrupted me.

Sitting up, he ripped out of my arms, crumbling before I could put the pieces back to together. "He wouldn't even call me by name, I don't know why I was stupid enough to think that he might say 'I love you'. I'm a fucking idiot."

"Carlisle-" I tried again, sitting up to lean against the headboard of the bed. This was going to be a long night, but the looks of it.

"He pretended I didn't exist- I flew all the way over there just so he could tell the nurses that he wanted one of his 'sons' to sign the forms- he wouldn't let me touch him when he needed help a-and he suffered because I wasn't good enough to do anything about it a-and-"

"Slow down, Carlisle," I pleaded, trying to keep track of his emotions before this got out of hand. I wasn't quite sure whether he was pissed off, or just upset, and the more he worked himself up, the harder it was for me to decipher.

"I don't fit in anywhere, Garrett," he burst out suddenly.

 _Oh for fucks sake._ "Where on earth did that come from?" I asked, trying to be patient with him. I was swallowing back frustration; I just wanted him to calm down enough to get a decent night's sleep.

"I don't belong here; the food is different and the people are different and I don't understand your traditions, but going back to London feels worse and it's suffocating and I can't breathe-"

"And you're having a panic attack," I murmured, forcing him to let me hug him. He was in too much of a state to ignore me, and gave in to the comfort fairly readily – much to my relief; I don't know what I was going to do with him if he carried on the way he was. "You get homesick, huh? You've never told me that before."

"…it didn't matter…"

"Of course it matters, Carlisle. If something is making you unhappy, then it matters, alright?" A tense silence filled the room as he considered my answer, keeping his head down so I couldn't read his expression. It took a few minutes, but eventually his breathing evened out again and he caved in to wanting the comfort, shuffling closer to me again.

"Sorry…"

I ignored his apology, sifting my fingers through his hair as he leaned against me. "Things will get better; you just have to give it a chance," I reminded him, gently squeezing him as the warmth of his body against mine leeched through my clothing.

He nodded slowly, unconvinced but agreeing. His fingers slowly became entangled in my shirt, and his breathing evened out as the panic attack gradually passed. "…today wasn't as bad as I thought it would be…"

Unable to resist a smile, I ran my hand up his arm to squeeze his fingers. "Good, you handled it better than I expected, to be honest."

"Such faith in me, Garrett," he teased half-heartedly.

"You know what I mean, Carlisle," I chuckled, shuffling down the mattress to lie flat again. I let my eyes fall closed as my boyfriend fitted himself snuggly against my body. He was close enough that I could feel every breath that he took, and whatever anxiety he had been feeling before seemed to be lessening. I leaned my cheek against the top of his head, squeezing him a little tighter. "I missed this."

He hummed quietly in response, kissing my neck and melting into me. "…the worst part of all of this was having to be apart for a month, I think…made today seem easy…" His hand landed on my hip as I lay down, and he slid his knees between mine to maintain the intimacy. "…Merry Christmas, Garrett."

I couldn't fight off a smile. "Merry Christmas, Carlisle."


	40. Chapter 40

I never celebrated New Year's – I never had anyone to celebrate with – and I wasn't surprised that Carlisle didn't want to go out with his friends either. He was quite subdued, trying to force happiness but unable to. We stayed home on New Year's Eve, eating pizza and chocolate and whatever other treats I could coax between my boyfriend's lips. In a last-ditch effort to make him smile, I forced him to tell me his favourite movie, and then tracked it down online. We ended up watching 'The Shining', and I hated it from the moment the opening credits flashed across the screen. It helped having Carlisle cuddled up against my side, though, a blanket wrapped around both of us.

"You okay?" I asked quietly, gently running my fingers through his hair while he lay with his head in my lap. We'd been invited out for drinks with Alistair and company, and I knew Carlisle felt pretty shitty about turning him down _again._

He nodded slowly, leaning back against me. "Yeah…thank you for staying home with me…"

"Where else do you think I'd go?" I teased softly. "They're you're friends, not mine. I only get to go because you're so clingy." Shuffling under him, I moved until I was flat on my back, keeping him tightly tucked against me. Holding him like that felt different than it used to; I was sure I could have broken him if I'd used too much pressure, he felt so fragile.

The quiet laugh my observation provoked lifted a weight off my chest, though, and I smiled as his lips gently brushed mine, the shy form of a kiss. "Please, you've barely let me out of your sight since I've come home."

I squeezed his waist. "I'll feel better when you are happier." My fingertips slipped under his t-shirt, teasing the small of his back as he wrapped his arms around my waist. Out the window, fireworks lit the sky, marking the new year rolling in. The movie was momentarily forgotten as we refocused our attention on them. "Should we go out and watch?" I asked carefully, noting his interest. Him having an interest in anything lately was a miracle.

Hesitating, he glanced up at me. "You want to go for a walk?"

"Yeah; they'll be clearer on the street." I sat up, hurrying down the hallway to grab our jackets before they were over. Carlisle had managed to put his shoes on by the time I got back, and I quickly did the same as he pulled on the extra clothing. Within a minute, we were running down the apartment stairs to get outside.

I slipped on the icy path as we hit the concrete, laughing as he grabbed my arm to steady me. He knotted our fingers together, keeping hold of my hand as we walked slowly toward town. The streets flashed with bright lights during each burst of colour, and it threw dark shadows behind us.

"…pretty…"

"They do this in London, don't they?"

"Sometimes. I used to watch it there too." He stepped closer so that our arms brushed as we walked, leaning his head against my shoulder when we stopped at the end of the street. We had a fairly clear view of everything through a break in the buildings, though the peace was somewhat disturbed by near-by party goers stumbling home from a gathering. "It's not quite as romantic by yourself, though."

I chuckled, wrapping my arm around his waist. "I know; this is the first time I've ever really spent new years with anyone, let alone someone that I love." Giving him a gentle squeeze, I leaned down to kiss him. His fingers knotted in my hair, deepening it.

Unfortunately, it was only a few minutes before the cold started getting to him; he wasn't able to combat the drop in temperature in his current state. He was cuddling into my side in search of heat, and was starting to shiver a little bit. I wrapped my jacket around him, pulling him in to a tight hug.

"Home before you freeze."

.

.

Carlisle had to work today, and it was killing both of us. It was his first day behind the counter in over a month, and dealing with a hoard of rude vacationers wasn't really ideal. I just hoped they were nice to him. Before even leaving, he was anxious and not feeling the best, only managing a few sips of coffee and a couple of mouthfuls of cereal for breakfast.

"It'll be okay," I tried to assure him, not quite believing it myself as I rubbed his hand. I knew he wasn't ready to go back yet; fuck, he was still unsettled by me leaving him at home by himself all day.

"I know," he answered unsurely, trying to force a smile as our eyes met.

"And if anything goes wrong, call me and I'll come and get you," I promised.

All too soon, he was hugging me goodbye, departing with a nervous kiss. I wasn't going to be getting any work done today; I was nervous on his behalf. Getting less than three hours sleep was bad for anyone, let alone someone who was already emotionally unbalanced. I was sure I was going to be picking up pieces when he got home tonight.

I kept my phone firmly in my pocket all day, thoroughly expecting to have to quit half way through to bail my boyfriend out. It stayed silent, though, and it created both a sense of relief and heightened my nerves. I was so antsy by the end of the day, I decided to pick him up rather than wait for him at home.

The doorbell rang as I pushed through the door of the bookshop, and Carlisle winced without glancing over to see who it was. He had a small line of customers in front of him, and having another obviously wasn't something he was thrilled about. For old times' sake, I picked up a newspaper and joined the line.

I smiled at him when he glanced up and our eyes met, and he tried to mirror the gesture as a look of relief flashed across his face. "Ready to go home?" I asked as I finally reached the counter and was the last 'customer'. Dropping the paper onto the countertop, I reached for his hand over the wood.

He nodded slowly, running his free hand through his hair to get it off his face. "Yeah…" I was suddenly really glad that I hadn't made him walk home; he looked exhausted. Not needing to be prompted again, he started shutting down the till. I pulled the open sign inside, locking the front door to try and cut down the amount of time it was until he could go home. There wasn't much else I could do to help; the rest of it required actual training. It only took Carlisle another few minutes to finish up though, and his hands were shaking as he hurried.

I hugged him as he came around the front of the counter, and he buried his face in my shoulder. "Do you want to stop and get something for dinner on the way home?"

"…I feel sick, Garrett…" he mumbled, wrapping his arms around my neck.

I sighed, but left it alone; there was no point in pushing it if it was only going to upset him. He was quiet on the short drive home, fighting falling asleep and unable to hold a conversation. I kept my hand on his leg, and he'd wrapped his fingers around mine. His hands were freezing, and there was no warmth soaking through his jeans like there should have been. He really needed a decent meal and a good sleep. "Did something happen?" I asked gently, squeezing his thigh.

"…no…I'm just really tired…" He tried to smile, but he couldn't quite manage it.

"Work wasn't too bad, though?"

"It was fine…happy to be going home, though…" Despite his words, he didn't look much happier to be in the front door, still holding my hand but watching the floor. We settled on left-overs from last night for dinner, and he picked at his food rather than eating it, but it was better than nothing.

.

.

Over the next few weeks, he was on a downward spiral. The first real red flag was a locked bathroom door. Carlisle had _never_ locked me out before, and although he was within his rights to do it, I suddenly felt ill. I got changed and re-made the bed to pass the time until he was ready to face me again, forcing myself to settle and not wind him up anymore.

It wasn't long before he came to join me, immediately melting into my side and resting his head on my chest. I wasn't even sure if he knew he'd done it, but it still stung a little bit. He wasn't so cold now, which was a blessing, but he was pale and shaky, not looking very well.

"Are you sick?" I asked quietly, pressing my hand against it forehead. There was no fever, but it didn't bring me any comfort, only heightening my confusion.

He immediately shook his head.

"Carlisle," I warned, nudging him so that he sat up again.

"…Jet lag…" he mumbled, refusing eye contact and fidgeting.

I rejected the answer. "You've been home for weeks, it doesn't last that long. Don't lie to me."

"I don't know what else to tell you…"

"The truth," I prompted, reaching for his hand to interlace our fingers; I didn't want him to think that I was mad at him, however irritating his vagueness was.

My boyfriend just shrugged, his hold on my hand weak. "…I can't sleep, Garrett…"

I felt like we were going in circles. "I know, Carlisle, you also aren't eating." I pushed him back against the bed, gently pressing our lips together, kissing his neck when he turned his head away a little.

"That's not the issue-"

"It's an issue for me," I told him bluntly. "You need to eat a proper meal more urgently than you need to sleep. It's no wonder you're not feeling well." I was forced to let his hands go as he tried to jerk free, visibly upset with me now. Frowning as he curled up to get away from me, I brushed his hair back off his face as a safer option; he needed help and I couldn't give it to him.

.

.

I knew he didn't get to bed before four AM most nights, and at seven every morning I woke up with his body wrapped around mine, and I had to wake him up so I could get up to go to work. This forced him to get up too, despite only being down for less than three hours and it being his day off. He silently refused to stay in bed once he was alone, far too anxious and having panic attacks when he woke up if he did manage to drift off again.

I couldn't do it to him. Not this morning. Not if sleep was what he wanted so desperately. As soon as my alarm beeped at seven AM, I quickly shut it off, rubbing Carlisle's back to hold him against me when he tried to pull back, only half awake. "Stay, Carlisle, it's okay," I soothed, kissing the top of his head. "Go back to sleep."

It didn't take too much to relax him enough to fall asleep, and I quickly sent a message to my boss, telling him I was sick. I shuffled down the bed and settled the blankets over us again. It didn't take long for me to go back to sleep either.

At eleven o'clock, I slid out from under the blankets, going to make something to eat for both of us when he woke up. Carlisle managed to sleep for another few hours, eventually wandering out in search of me. I slowly wrapped my arms around him, kissing his forehead.

"…you stayed home with me…"

"Yeah, I didn't want to wake you up." Rubbing his shoulder, I felt him relax into me as he mumbled a thank you. "Sit down and have something to eat." I pulled out a chair to make him sit and started dishing up the food.

"…Garrett…" he pleaded.

"It has to happen," I reminded him. I sat across from him at the table, watching as he struggled to take a bite.

"I-I…I was never allowed to eat unless my father said I could, and…" Forcing a deep breath, he fought not to cry. My heart sank when I realised that he was asking me for permission.

"He doesn't have any influence over what you're allowed to do now." Reaching over, I squeezed his hand. "Eat your breakfast, Carlisle."

He nodded, taking a careful bite of it. It looked like it hurt to swallow, and I hoped he wouldn't vomit. That was the last thing we needed. Panicking, he fought to take deep breaths, fighting a meltdown. Again, he only managed a few small mouthfuls before putting his fork down.

I watched as what little colour was left in his face drained, reaching across the table to squeeze his shoulder and get him to look at me. "Are you going to be sick?" I asked softly, brushing my thumb over his cheek. "Carlisle?"

"…n-no…" he mumbled uncomfortably, too scared to look up at me. It was anxiety driven, no doubt. He pushed the bowl back across the table so he didn't have to look at it, folding his arms against the table top and resting his forehead against them.

I didn't know what to do with him. I touched his leg under the table, and he apologised quietly. Acknowledging it seemed pointless, so I just shifted closer, wrapping my arms around him. "It'll be okay, Carlisle, we'll find a way to get you better," I promised, kissing his neck.

He leaned back against me, still very tired and a little upset now. "…I-I'm getting dizzy, Gar…" he mumbled. Turning to face me, he knotted his fingers in my shirt. I could hear the fear in his voice and he was hyperventilating.

I just hugged him, sighing as I realised we were going to have to wait out yet another panic attack.

.

.

Everything came to a head a few days later.

I was quite literally twiddling my thumbs at work, flicking paper clips at an old coffee mug as a form of amusement until the end of the day. I usually wouldn't have had my phone on my desk, unless I was on my lunch break, but I'd left it there today. My stomach dropped as Carlisle's number lit up my screen; he had no reason to be calling me in the middle of the day unless something had happened.

I answered it immediately, fleeing into the stairwell to try and gain a bit of privacy and attempt to avoid being caught by my manager. It was hard to calm down before I answered it, but it wouldn't help if I panicked before he did. "Hey, are you okay?" I almost rolled my eyes at myself; it wasn't much of a greeting when realistically he was probably fine. It wasn't like it was illegal for him to call me midday, so my panic was a little unwarranted really.

"Uh, Garrett, right?" a foreign voice asked carefully.

"…Yeah," I answered slowly, my pulse picking up as I went over every horrible scenario in which a stranger could need to have Carlisle's phone.

"I work with your boyfriend, but he's not feeling well and needs to go home. Is there any chance you can take him? I can't really leave the counter."

"Yeah- yeah, of course. Is he alright?" My heart was drumming in my ears as I headed back toward the office, bracing myself to face my boss. The woman's answer down the other end of the phone line was a little lost on me; I was too focused getting out of work for the rest of the day. Promising that I would be there soon, I hung up, bursting through my boss's office door.

He jumped at the sound, looking up at me with a scowl. "What, Parker? Did your mother not teach you to knock?"

I ignored him; I really wasn't in the mood for his bullshit right now. "I have to go home. My partner is sick, and he can't drive so I really need to take him go. I-"

He looked at his watch. We still had three hours left of work until home time. "Go, Garrett. Just make sure you've got that report in to me by Friday night."

That pulled me up short; he'd literally never been nice to me before. "…really?"

He nodded. "Yes. Go home and make sure your family is okay; it isn't like you'll do any work sitting here worrying anyway." Although he was grumbling, his out of character response to my demand lifted a weight off my chest. I wasn't actually doing any work anyway, but that wasn't the point.

I fled immediately, practically flying to my car. This wouldn't have been half as bad if it had been _Carlisle_ who had called me, because at least then I would have been able to make sure he was alright, but having to take the word of the woman who I'd never met was killing me. Each red traffic light had me impatiently fidgeting in my seat. I comforted myself with the fact that he couldn't have seriously hurt himself, or they would have called an ambulance, not me.

The woman behind the counter offered me a warm smile as I came entered the bookshop. "I've seen you in here a few times," she chuckled. "That all makes sense now."

"Yeah…is Carlisle okay?" I asked, unable to help pushing. It was probably rude, but I didn't care at that point.

Her smile faded a little. "Take him home so he can get some rest. I think he needs to lie down for a while." She led me back into the staff room, and despite the situation, the thought of the two of us spending an evening eating pizza in here together all those months ago brought a smile to my face.

I thanked her and rushed to crouch in front of Carlisle. "Hey, are you alright? What happened?" Brushing my thumb over a graze on his cheek, I frowned. He was very, very pale and not really focusing on me.

"…w-why are you here?" he asked softly, closing his fingers around mine to get my hand away from his face.

"I called him, Carlisle," his co-worker told me. "You asked me to see if he could take you home, remember?" Seeing that he still looked confused, she turned to me. "Your boy fainted this afternoon, I think he hit his head on the way down," she explained. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's given himself a concussion."

"Thanks," I sighed, standing up and pulling him into a tight hug. He was aware enough to wrap his arms around my waist, tangling his fingers in my shirt. I leaned down to kiss him gently, rubbing his shoulder as he leaned against me. "Are you alright? You haven't hurt yourself?"

"I'm okay," he mumbled back. He sounded miserable, and I just wanted him home and in bed now.

"Let's go then. Tell me if you're going to pass out again." I kept my arm around his waist as he stood up, and he immediately stumbled into me, dizzy.

"Garrett…" he whispered, his knees buckling under him a little.

"You won't fall," I assured him, gripping his jacket to make sure. Parking the car as close as possible to the book shop had definitely been a good idea. It was purely to appease my laziness at the time, but by the looks of it, the chances of Carlisle being able to walk very far were slim. He was already unsteady and had barely made it to the door.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital, Carlisle?" the woman asked, watching the ordeal play out.

"…J-just need to go home, Sue…"

"I'll keep an eye on him," I promised, offering her a tight smile. The uneven cobbles on the path made keeping upright even harder, and Carlisle tripped and stumbled all the way to the car. I opened the passenger door and made him sit, letting him catch his breath while I stood in front of him to stop him falling. "Are you going to throw up? You're really pale."

He shook his head. "…just dizzy, Gar…"

Taking him to the emergency room really wasn't seeming like a bad idea, judging by the way he was going. "You need to see a doctor, Carlisle, this really isn't good," I murmured, kissing him again.

"…need to eat…" His breaths were coming in short, sharp gasps and he was trembling a little. He folded his arms against his knees, resting his head in his hands. "…God…"

Keeping my hands on his shoulders to stop him slipping, I stepped forward so he could lean against me. "Jesus, Carlisle…"

"…do you have to go back to work?" he asked anxiously.

"No, I've got the rest of the day off." After a few more minutes and him managing to put his seatbelt on, I got in the car and started home, keeping my hand on Carlisle's leg. His fingers stayed wrapped around mine, but his hold on me was weak. "We really need to sort this out; this can't go on any longer," I sighed.

"…I have to eat, but I feel so sick…" Suddenly fighting tears, he was already having a panic attack.

I squeezed his hands, running my thumb over the back of his fingers. "Let's just get you home first."

.

.

He managed to eat about half of what I put in front of him, but looked downright ill throughout the process. He didn't make it to bed, though, falling asleep on the couch as he lay with his head on my lap. I was half watching the TV, half watching Carlisle. Even unconscious, he was uneasy. It was frustrating; I was slowly watching him come undone, and I didn't know what to do about it.

I pressed my hand against his forehead, checking again that he didn't have a fever, and sighed heavily. He wasn't warm; this was self-induced. The curtains weren't shut properly, and I squinted into the light as it filtered through the small gap, hoping it wouldn't wake him up. Reaching over, I pulled one of the blankets we kept on the arm of the couch over him, rubbing his arm through the fabric. It made him fidget, but he didn't wake up.

Suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of sadness on his behalf, I slid out from under him so that I could lie down too. I wrapped my arms around him as I lay back, pulling him into me and locking him against my chest. I hadn't shut the fucking curtain, though, and it was shining directly on my face. Groaning, I hid my face in his shirt, kissing his neck when he stirred a little.

My boyfriend was more awake than I had given him credit for, clumsily rolling over to face me. "…what's wrong?" he asked softly.

I kissed him gently, sliding my hands down his back to squeeze him. "I'm just worried, Carlisle."

"About…?"

"You. What else have I got to worry about." My attempt at teasing didn't work very well; I couldn't keep my voice light enough.

"I'm scared," he admitted.

"So am I." Shifting again, I tried to get my hands under his clothing, wanting more contact with him. It made him want to be closer to me as well, burying his face in my shirt.

"…I can't do this anymore."

I hated seeing my usually bright boyfriend so hopeless, and I forced myself to ignore the burning behind my eyes. "You have to, Carlisle. It'll get better again." It felt like a fucking lie after all this time of telling him that.

"…I want to go see a doctor…?" He was quiet, suddenly tense like he was waiting for me to rebuke him. Despite it being his own idea, I could see it made him nervous and that he was uncomfortable with it.

I leaned forward to kiss him lightly. "If that's what you feel like you need to do, then yeah."

"…You're okay with it, though…?"

"Whatever you want to do, Carlisle, I'll support you."


	41. Chapter 41

**So it's been almost a month, here we go! The last sad chapter too.**

.

.

This was the lowest I'd ever seen Carlisle get. The doctor had labelled him 'non-urgent', which meant he was waiting a week and a half to get an appointment. I was beyond pissed that they seemed to be forgetting that he'd literally passed out, and that he couldn't eat anything past the nausea. Being somewhat pushed aside by the people he was relying on to get help had been a pretty hard blow, and he'd gone from being overwhelmed and upset, to completely withdrawn and not coping at all.

His hands shook so badly that he couldn't get his key in the lock to let himself into the apartment after work, and I went to open it, not wanting him to struggle any more than he had to. It would only wind him up further.

"Hey," I forced a smile, wrapping my arms around him. It was enough to make him burst into tears, and he was stiff as I pulled him inside so that he didn't have to do this in front of the neighbours. "Carlisle…"

Trying to stifle it, he hugged me back, resting his forehead against my shoulder. "…I'm sorry for doing this to you, Garrett…"

"I know you are," I murmured, rubbing his shoulder. "You don't have to be, though." I wasn't sure how much of this was caused by exhaustion, but I guessed it was a great deal judging by the way he was sleeping. Asking about dinner seemed like a bad idea as well, so I let it slide. I bypassed sitting him on the couch; if he was going to fall to bits, it was better for him to be somewhere where he didn't need to move again tonight.

He flinched when I turned on the TV for background noise, futilely trying to wipe the tears away before they fell. The pull of the blankets was too much, and he crawled into bed before I prompted him to, just wanting to lie down. The bruising from his fall the other day was far too obvious as his clothing shifted; the way he moved was enough to prove that it was hurting.

"You had a bad day, huh?" I asked as I lay beside him. My question only produced more tears, and I hugged him again.

Shuffling closer, he leaned his cheek against my chest, knotting his fingers in my shirt as he nodded. "…can't handle it anymore…" he admitted shakily, guilty.

I sighed and ran my fingers through his hair. "You just need to hold on another few days to see the doctor," I pleaded with him. Whatever was going through his head made me feel ill on his behalf.

He was going to make himself vomit, if he carried on panicking the way he was. Every muscle in his body was tense and it must have been painful by now. "…This was all supposed to end when I left London…"

If nothing else, it certainly couldn't get any worse. I didn't think he'd appreciate me telling him that, though, so I didn't say anything, kissing him again instead. While he tried to calm himself down again, fighting off waves of anxiety, I rubbed his shoulder and focused on repressing a grimace at the bones under his shirt. I couldn't believe the doctors were stupid enough to push him back another week. Fucking morons.

.

.

Despite my boss's good humour in letting me go to take him home, he wouldn't give me the day off to go with my boyfriend to the doctor's appointment. Carlisle didn't seem to particularly want me to come with him either, so I had to let it go. It didn't stop me being fidgety and restless the entire day; I knew he was anxious and not feeling so good about it, and it made me feel like shit for not being able to be with him.

I counted the hours until I could go home. They seemed to drag on forever. I managed to get away five minutes early, but quickly found myself in gridlock rush hour traffic, angrily gripping the steering wheel and gritting my teeth.

Our apartment was quiet as I shut the door behind me, but I knew Carlisle was home judging by his phone and keys on the kitchen table. There were a couple of small pill boxes next to them, and I assumed them to be whatever the doctor had given him this afternoon. A quick google search of their names confirmed that one was a sleeping pill, and the other a form of antidepressant. One dose of both was already gone, and it hurt a little bit that he was desperate enough to take a sedative before six in the evening. Thank god he had it, though.

I shook my head at myself; finding that my boyfriend had been put on medication shouldn't have given me the relief that it did. Anything that would make this easier for him.

"Carlisle?" I called out, tracing him down the hallway. He sleepily glanced up at me as I reached the bedroom doorway, visibly confused and a little startled. I sat on the bed next to him, unable to fight back a smile. "Hey, how'd it go today?" I asked softly, rubbing his shoulder in reassurance.

He forced himself to sit up, rubbing his face as he tried not to immediately fall asleep again. "…okay…he gave me some stuff to take so I can sleep, and…" Looking away, he avoided bringing up the other pills, and I let it slide. If he didn't want to talk about it yet, then I wasn't going to push him into it. The thought of it was making him anxious, despite his state, so I left it alone. I was pretty sure whatever it was had been the reason he hadn't wanted me to be in the appointment with him.

"Well, it's working, isn't it?" I chuckled, watching him struggled to stay conscious enough to speak to me.

He nodded, forcing a tired smile. "Yeah…he said it might make me feel like crap for a few days until I get used to it, but it's okay for now."

I leaned down to kiss him, giving him a gentle squeeze. "I'll get you when dinner is ready, go back to sleep."

He didn't get much choice really, needing to sleep too urgently to resist it and quickly curling up under the blankets again. I stayed and watched for a moment, frowning; medication was a start, but it wasn't going to fix everything, and he did really look awful.

In the kitchen, I tried to make a meal that might at least be semi-appealing to someone with no appetite. Avoiding anything with a weird texture or a flavour that was too strong was a safe bet, but getting him to regain all the weight that he had lost was going to be a long process if he couldn't eat very much.

He wandered into the kitchen an hour later, hugging me from behind. His hands were still cold, but he was definitely more relaxed now.

I smiled involuntarily and turned to face him. "How long did the doctor say it would take for the pills to start to work properly?" I asked as I wrapped my arms around him.

"Another week," he groaned, frustrated. Burying his face in my shoulder, he tried to smother a wave of emotion, but couldn't quite manage. "But I have to go to work tomorrow, and I'm scared I'll get dizzy again, and if the pills make me sick, t-then…"

"Then I'll take you home and tuck you up in bed. It'll be okay." It was hard to tease, and I gave it up pretty quickly; he needed genuine comfort, and I'd be a shitty boyfriend if I didn't give it to him. Running my hand up his back, I rubbed his shoulder, repressing a sigh. "I'll keep you safe, Carlisle, don't worry about it, and I'll drive you to work tomorrow morning so you don't have to get up early, okay?"

He didn't have the energy to fight me, shakily agreeing and tightening his hold on me. "Your mum rang me today, to make sure I was okay…" It was almost a question, like he was checking it was alright, but I smiled anyway.

"You're part of the family now; you can't stop her worrying about you." She'd asked me how he was feeling a few days ago too, and had instantly been concerned when I'd told her what was happening to him. She was pushing for a family lunch, and I was sure it was born out of her need to see for herself how he was. That wasn't going to happen for a while yet, if I could help it. Not until Carlisle could handle being subjected to dad again.

"…it's nice…"

"It's supposed to be." I kissed him softly, my heart warming; acceptance would only bring good things for him.

.

.

Between not feeling well and being irresistibly tired, Carlisle really struggled during the day. He worked from home most days, fighting his way through paper work and only going in to the shop if he really couldn't avoid it. The doctor's warning had been right; the side effects of the medication had been brutal for the first few days, but it did seem to ease as time went on. Either that, or my boyfriend became better at hiding his symptoms.

Despite the situation, I did sort of like having him home all the time; I liked being hugged the moment I opened the door and being greeted by someone who was pleased to see me. Leaving him home alone was becoming less scary as well; I knew he'd only fall asleep, and his panic attacks weren't as vicious.

We spent most evenings on the couch after dinner, mindlessly watching movies to pass the time until it was late enough to be considered bed time. It was nice that it was winter too; being so close to each other helped to combat the cold. The small meals Carlisle managed to eat helped him gain a little weight, but it wasn't enough realistically.

Tonight was no different. Listening to the rain against the window, I sat with my arm around Carlisle's shoulders, his legs across my lap and his head on my shoulder. His hand was on my thigh, lightly teasing the fabric of my pants with his fingertips. There was a little more colour in his face than there had been since he'd come home, which was definitely hopeful. I leaned down to kiss his cheek, wrapping my other arm around him to pull him closer.

"You feeling okay?"

"Yeah." His lips brushed my throat, his hand tightening around my thigh momentarily. "Lot's better."

Knowing that it was actually true for the first time in god-knows-how-long brought an involuntary smile to my face. "You're more 'yourself' than you have been in a while."

"I feel good, Gar…" He glanced up at me, smiling as I ran my fingers through his hair. I wasn't dumb enough to take that at face value and fully believe him yet, but it was a comfort to hear it. His problems with his father wouldn't just disappear, but as long as he was coping, it didn't matter right now.

I kissed him, pulling him closer so that I could hug him properly. The extra warmth of his body against mine suddenly made a day's work very apparent, and I leaned my forehead against his shoulder as my eyelids started to become heavy. His free hand slid across the back of my neck, lightly playing with my hair as I pressed a kiss against the base of his throat. "I guess the doctor did know best then, hmm?"

He hesitated, tensing a little bit. "…he put me on antidepressants…"

"I know. Why've you been nervous to tell me?" I asked softly. It'd been a few weeks since the appointment, and he hadn't said a word about it since coming home. "It's not a big deal, Carlisle."

"I don't know…taking them makes me feel like I've done something wrong…they make me feel better, but I feel bad about having them, and I didn't want to talk about it…" He was mumbling, half avoiding the conversation. If he wasn't so entangled in me, I wouldn't have been surprised if he had moved away from me.

"And you want to talk about it now?" Affection seemed like a good distraction, and I pressed kisses along his jaw, working my away along until our lips met.

He let the kiss continue for a moment before pulling back and shaking his head. "No, but I don't want to hide things from you either."

I left it alone then, not wanting to push him. "If it upsets you, we don't have to talk about it; it's okay. I'm happy you told me, though."

"Thank you for putting up with me."

"I love you," I chuckled, stealing another kiss. "Besides, I cry when you try and take me to dinner, so I think we can call it even."

He laughed and rolled his eyes, and another smile crept across my lips as I realised how much I'd missed this playfulness with him. "You know it's been almost a year since we met?"

"You mean, it's been almost a year since I suddenly developed an interest in reading the newspaper?" I laughed.

"Did you ever actually read them?" His fingers edged under my t-shirt to trace circles against the small of my back.

"At first, yeah…and then I just did the crosswords in the back," I admitted sheepishly.

"Such a waste of paper," he murmured, condescending patting my hand.

I rolled my eyes as I chuckled to myself. "It wasn't a waste if I got you out of it."

.

.

The cold weather was really starting to get to me. I mean, it was always pretty bloody cold here, even in the summer, but this was fucking ridiculous; it was almost lunch time and I was still shivering. Everyone in the office was huddled around the heaters, still wearing their coats from outside. I was in a sour mood; I hadn't had time for breakfast this morning, and I was paying the price.

"Your boyfriend is here," the woman in the cubical next to me murmured, her eyes trained on the door.

Glancing up, I wasn't sure whether I was pleased to see him, or annoyed that he'd left the house in this weather. Still, if anyone was going to look cute bundled up in wet weather gear, it was Carlisle.

I couldn't kid myself; of _course_ I was pleased to see him.

"What're you doing?" I scolded lightly as he came closer, unable to keep from smiling anyway.

"You didn't eat before you left, so this is the next best thing." Sitting in front of me, he set a thermos on the table, presumably full of coffee. His hair was wet from the rain, sticking to him when he tried to brush it off his face. "It's too cold to not eat all day; you'll get sick."

I kissed him, slipping my hands under his jacket as we hugged to make sure that he wasn't soaked through – he was dry, thank god. "Thank you. You should be at home, though."

He rolled his eyes at me. "I can't stay there all day, Garrett, I'm going insane."

I held my tongue; mothering him wouldn't get either of us anywhere. "Just be careful; you've only just got yourself feeling better. We don't need you getting sick on top of that."

"I'll be okay." Squeezing my fingers, he offered me a shy smile. "I'll make dinner for when you get home, but be careful driving, okay? It's really wet out there."

"I'm sure I'll be drier than you," I teased. It wasn't something that he needed to fret about; I knew how bad it was out there. Driving this morning had been a little bit 'touch and go' with all the water on the roads, but it wasn't like I was going far.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, but by the time I got home, I was more than happy to be inside. The windshield wipers in my car struggled to compensate for the torrential rain, and I could barely see where I was actually going and just hoping for the best. It wasn't too bad, but I was relieved to have made it to my front door alive nonetheless.

My boy greeted me with a kiss and a quick hug, already trying to get my soaked jacket off me before I'd shut the door. I wrapped my arms around him, laughing. "Slow down, Carlisle. It's fine."

He couldn't wipe the anxiety off his face, and I wondered if I'd misjudged his mood this afternoon. "I know you said you only do the crosswords, but have you seen the news?" he murmured, briefly glancing at the channel playing on the TV.

Sure enough, the breaking story was the storm that had set over us, and that roads in the city centre were shut due to flooding. "My parents…" Immediately my heart rate started to pick up; mum and dad were in a prone area, and I was already trying to figure out the logistics of safely getting them here through the weather.

Carlisle squeezed my arm, trying to reassure me. "I've spoken to them already, Garrett. They're fine. Eleazar and his family are okay too"

Breathing a sigh of relief, I kissed him again. "God, I love you so much."

"Come and have dinner; you haven't eaten all day."

.

.

A booming clap of thunder woke me up. I jolted upright in bed, instinctively reaching across for Carlisle's hand at the sound. He slid his fingers through mine automatically as I touched him.

"You've missed most of it," he whispered to me, shuffling closer as lightening lit up the room. "The power is out too."

One glance at my alarm clock confirmed that. My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and I watched as my boyfriend crawled out of bed to tug open the curtains. The city was dark, and I could barely make out the outlines of the neighbourhood. "You've been awake a while, then?" I sat back against the headboard, pulling him into my lap as he got back in bed.

"I can't sleep…" He relaxed into me readily enough, but there was a good deal of anxiety underneath it all. I just hoped this wouldn't provoke a panic attack; he seemed to have it under wraps for now, though.

"It'll be fine." I locked my arms around his chest, resting my chin on his shoulder. I hated myself for asking, but I couldn't help it. "You've taken your medication, right?"

He nodded guiltily, kissing my hand as much as he could reach from the way I was holding him. The question had made him a little bit uncomfortable, as much as he tried to hide it.

"I didn't mean it like that, Carlisle, I just don't want you to worry more than you should," I murmured, squeezing him a little.

"…I know…" He leaned into me, and we both fell quiet as the sky exploded again, content to just watch it for now. I doubted either of us would be sleeping much tonight.

.

.


	42. Chapter 42

"Happy anniversary…"

I hummed in response, running my hands up his body as he pressed a kiss against my neck. "Happy anniversary." Squeezing my eyes shut as his lips worked up my jaw, I tangled one hand in his hair, the other gripping his waist. I rolled so that he was on top of me, his ribs against my stomach as he kissed me. "Good morning."

He shifted against me, laughing at how clumsy it was while he was tangled in the bed sheets. Falling into me, he buried his face in my neck. "I love you."

"I love you too." If nothing else, it was nice to have him smiling again. The cold was deterrent enough to keep us both in bed for the morning, and I kept him close to me under the bed covers – not that he was protesting. "Do you want to go out for breakfast this morning? Or, ah, brunch?"

"Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly, running his fingers through my hair to brush it back off my face.

I nodded; we'd made it through a year together, and Carlisle had been through far more in the last couple of months than I'd been through in my entire life, so I could be brave for an hour or so. "Yeah, get dressed. Let's go get pancakes." Squeezing him, I kissed him again before sitting up.

That was all it took to get him up, and I watched while he pulled on his clothing – or rather, stole _my_ clothing. I didn't call him out on it; he looked cute wearing my hoodie and I didn't want to disturb that.

We decided to drive the short distance, seeming as it was fucking freezing and raining so damn hard that an umbrella would have been doomed. By the time we got to the car, my boy was already shivering.

The café was warm inside, and rather quiet seeming as no one else was insane enough to come out on a day like today. I repressed a smile as we placed our order and I felt Carlisle slide his fingers through mine, squeezing in reassurance. We found a quiet corner to sit in, and I tried to ignore the butterflies in my stomach as he rubbed my leg under the table.

"If it's too much, we can sit in the car," he reminded me kindly. "But you'll be fine."

It was a comfort that there wasn't really anybody else in the shop, but the biggest danger was that I would lose my nerve before our food got here. I didn't get the chance though; the service was that quick that our plates were in front of us before I had time to overthink it. I didn't allow myself the luxury of panicking before I shoved a forkful of food in my mouth, and Carlisle laughed at the speed of it.

"Hungry, huh?" he teased lightly, his hand still on my thigh.

"Shut up," I grumbled back, chuckling. He was helping to distract me, though, and I was thankful for it.

Much to my amusement, he did fall quiet, suddenly distracted by his meal. It had been so long since I'd seen Carlisle be even slightly enthusiastic about food that this was a huge relief. We still had a long way to go before he would have gained back the weight that he had lost, but he would get there if he carried on like this. He glanced up, catching me staring. "…What?"

I swallowed another mouthful while I thought of an excuse, but he pushed his too-long sleeves back over his hands, and I couldn't stop myself from laughing quietly; he looked like a little kid like that, and it was fucking adorable.

" _What?"_ he repeated, struggling to fight off a smile now.

"Nothing; you're just cute." My comment didn't help his situation any; it made his cheeks slightly pink and he looked away, suddenly shy. _Cute._ I was starting to get a little nervous, and I re-focused my attention on taking slow, deep breaths. The last thing I wanted was to ruin this with a panic attack. Besides, the food was wonderful, and I was starving; I wasn't leaving it behind.

"You okay, Gar?" he asked softly, closing his fingers over my hand.

"I'm good," I mumbled, ignoring the churning in my stomach. It wasn't that bad; I would survive. I kept picking at my meal while he ate, and managed to get through most of it before he had finished. I immediately put my fork down, ready to leave, but Carlisle put his hand on my arm to stop me.

"It's okay, we can wait until you're done. You're almost there." He fidgeted with my sleeve as I used my other hand to eat, the coolness of his fingertips brushing against my forearm was comfort enough to stop me freaking out too much.

.

.

A swell of satisfaction washed over me as I set my fork down on the empty plate, but I was still grateful that my boyfriend didn't say anything about it. He tried to hold my hand as we walked back to the car, but it was raining so hard that we ended up running, and it was too awkward for him to keep hold of me. We were both panting by the time we had shut the doors, already more than a little damp.

As if on cue, my phone rang in my pocket. Seeing it was my brother dampened my spirits a little; as much as I loved him, I would have preferred to have spent the entire day with Carlisle _without_ interruptions. I answered it anyway, locking my fingers through his. "Eleazar?"

"Hey, Garrett. I know it's really short notice, but can you watch Kate today? The school is closed because of the weather, but Carmen and I still have to work." He sounded apologetic, and I couldn't really refuse him.

I glanced at Carlisle, suddenly conflicted, and lowered the phone to my shoulder. "Do you feel well enough to handle Kate for a few hours?" Already, I was planning alternative scenarios in my head; I wasn't about to subject him to my hyperactive niece if he wasn't up to it. If the worst came down to it, I could stay at Eleazar's place with Kate for the day, and Carlisle could stay home. It really wasn't the ideal way to mark spending one year together, but I'd still get the night with him and we'd had a nice morning.

Unsure, he nibbled his lip. "It's fine," he told me anyway, trying to force a smile.

I hesitated before relaying the message to my brother, and he sighed in relief.

.

.

"I'm really sorry about this," I murmured as we pulled into the driveway. Seeming as we were already out, we decided it was easier for us to go and pick up Kate than it was for Carmen to drop her off on her way to work.

"It's okay, Garrett. Besides, you haven't seen them in ages." He was smiling, bless him, but he still looked nervous. "It's only a few hours."

"I know. I'm just being selfish; I didn't want to share you today." I squeezed his leg before undoing my seatbelt. "Are you coming in, or are you waiting here?" His boundaries with my family were still a little blurred, and I wasn't sure whether he was comfortable enough to come into my brother's house again.

Deliberating for a moment, he nodded and opened his door. I took his hand as we walked up the path, pleased to find that it was warm.

Kate burst out the door as Carmen opened it, completely ignoring me and jumping on my boyfriend. "Carlisle!"

He crouched down so she could hug him, confused but compliant. Me and Carmen both laughed, rolling our eyes.

"Such a traitor," I grumbled to her, fighting a smile. It _was_ cute, though.

"Come inside before you freeze," she chuckled, ushering us in. She took our jackets from us to stop them dripping on the floor and hung them by the heater, looking us up and down. "You two look like drowned rats."

"We only walked from the car, Carmen," I reminded her. One glance in the hall mirror proved that we were, in fact, quite wet. "We can get changed when we get home; we'll survive until then."

"Make sure Katie wears her raincoat outside; I don't want here getting sick," she took on a tone only a mother could, and I chuckled under my breath.

"I'll take good care of her."

"I know you will. Now, come and have a hot drink before I have to leave." She hurried into the kitchen, boiling the jug and pulling out mugs for coffee. Her daughter had kidnapped my boyfriend, distracting him with pictures that she'd drawn and pinned on the fridge.

He glanced back at me in search of rescue, and I offered him an apologetic smile. I picked up Kate from behind, wincing at the pitch of her squeals and giggles as I playfully restrained her. "You won't be giving us trouble today, will you, miss?"

"No, Uncle Garrett," she told me obediently, shaking her head and making her blonde curls sway.

"I didn't think so," I laughed, setting her back on her feet and telling her to get her bag. My hand found Carlisle's again, and I squeezed his fingers. "Are you going to be okay?" I asked in a whisper, not really wanting my sister-in-law to overhear.

Nodding, he took a breath to steady himself. "Yeah, she's just, ah, full on. It's okay."

"Just say if it's too much, and I can take her out somewhere." Pressing a kiss against his cheek, I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled him back over to the table, just in time for Carmen to set a mug in front of each of us.

"Are you feeling any better, Carlisle?" she asked, briefly squeezing his shoulder before sitting beside us.

His hand tightened around mine at her question. "Y-yeah, it's…it's getting easier." He forced a smile, almost managing to laugh before nerves strangled it.

"That's good, love." She still looked to me for confirmation that it was true, and I gave her a small nod.

Kate barrelled into the kitchen a minute later, announcing that she was ready to leave. Carlisle and I quickly swallowed what was in our cups, and I scooped her up as we ran out to the car. My back was soaked from leaning over as I did up her seat belt for her, and I was rather wet by the time I got into my seat.

Carlisle immediately put his hand on my leg, fidgeting with the fabric of my jeans. Suspecting he was a bit nervous, I rubbed his fingers, taking his hand again. My niece talked the entire way home, and it was pretty clear that this was going to be our fate for the rest of the afternoon. So much for a quiet day with my boyfriend. I couldn't be mad, though; the happiness the child radiated was far too sweet.

.

.

I wrapped Kate in my coat before we got out of the car; we didn't need her to get cold as well. Ushering her inside the apartment building, I tried to ignore the water dribbling between my shoulder blades. Just being outdoors was enough to make me uncomfortably cold, and Carlisle was shivering. Kate's hair was wet, but she was warm and dry once I took the extra clothing off her.

I peeled off my top layer of clothing, cringing as it hit the kitchen bench with a wet slap. My shirt was still soaked, and I resigned myself to having to get changed completely. Carlisle would too, by the look of it. Needing to entertain my niece long enough for us to get dry again, I set her up with something to eat and a movie. "Stay there, Katie, okay?" I told her.

She wasn't listening, already absorbed in the film. Taking that as agreement, I set off down the hallway, taking Carlisle in tow.

"Doesn't she need to be watched?" he asked, glancing back at her.

"She won't even know we're gone," I laughed. "And it's only for a minute anyway."

It seemed to put him at ease, and he pulled off his shirt as we stepped into the bedroom. "Enough time to shower?" He clenched his teeth to stop them chattering, and the question had a little bit of anxiety behind it.

I hesitated, but it _would_ be nice; I was cold too, and the intimacy was definitely welcome. "If we're quick." Grabbing a couple of towels, I almost laughed at the eagerness at which he turned on the hot water. "Cold, huh?"

"…freezing…" He was under the water before I'd managed to wriggle out of my jeans, desperate to absorb the heat.

"Come here." I hugged him as I stepped into the shower, rubbing his back as he leaned his forehead against my collarbone. Running my fingers through his hair, I tried to untangle it, wanting to soothe him more than anything. I wanted to ask if he was feeling okay, but he must have been sick of people asking that by now.

He wrapped his arms around my neck, pulling himself up to get closer to me. He really was cold, and certainly didn't have the weight to retain what little heat he normally had.

I couldn't leave Kate unattended too long, despite how appealing staying in the shower with my boy was. "I need to make sure she's not tearing down the house, but you stay here as long you need to, okay?" Catching his chin to get him to look up at me, I kissed him softly.

Nodding, he groaned quietly. "Sorry, I-"

"She's my niece, Carlisle, you're not supposed to be worrying about her," I chuckled. "It's fine, just warm up." Jumping out, I hurriedly got dry and dressed again.

Kate literally hadn't moved, still glued to the TV and munching her way through a bag of chips. I didn't have the heart to take the snack off her; Eleazar may have been a health freak, but it wouldn't kill her to have the occasional treat.

While I waited for my boy to come back, I settled on the couch, already preparing a blanket with the hope of trapping him once I had him. I wrapped it around his shoulders as he sat down, pulling him into me. It seemed to be a welcome advancement, and he leaned his head against my shoulder, cuddling into my side. "Feel better?"

"Yeah…" He was still cold, though. Tucking his fingers inside the sleeves of his hoodie, he folded his arms across his stomach, trying to retain the heat of the shower.

I rubbed his shoulder, pulling his legs across my lap to shift him closer. "I love you."

"Love you too." Fidgeting with the buttons on my shirt, he started to relax again. We both mindlessly watched the talking animals that Kate was so enthralled by, but Carlisle's proximity to me was distracting, and I was struggling to keep my hands to myself.

I slipped my fingers under the back of his t-shirt, teasing the small of his back with my fingertips. His skin was still warm from the shower, and he kissed me as I touched him, running his fingers through my hair.

"I get you all to myself tonight, right?" he asked softly, bringing our lips together again as I nodded.

"Should we get takeaways for dinner?" The extra calories would do him good, and I certainly didn't feel like cooking. Going out in the weather didn't appeal either.

"Yeah…I don't want to go out there again."

"Me neither." I ran my hand down his leg, and his fingers tightened around the collar of my shirt. It was really testing my self-control, and it was only Kate being in the room that was making me be good.

The kisses Carlisle was pressing against my neck weren't helping, made even worse as he pulled my shirt away from my collarbones. Half wanting him to stop, but fighting begging him to go further, I tangled my fingers in his hair, brushing my thumb across his cheek.

"We need to behave until Kate goes home," I reminded him, kissing him again anyway.

He groaned quietly, resting his forehead against my neck.

She turned to look at us as she heard her name, throwing herself at me when she realised she was missing out on cuddles. "My turn," she announced, barging in.

I laughed, pushing Carlisle into the seat next to me and lifting her up. He just rolled his eyes, keeping his hand on my thigh anyway. I hugged Kate, letting her settle against me as she turned to watch the TV again. While she was distracted, I slipped my fingers through my boyfriend's, gently squeezing his hand.

He wrapped both of his hands around one of mine, tracing circles against the back of my palm. Ignoring Kate's insistence to be the centre of my attention, he leaned his cheek against my shoulder. I felt bad for pushing him away, but my niece would only be with us for a few hours, so it wasn't the end of the world, really. I slipped my arm behind him, hugging him as much as I was able to in our current position.

.

.

An hour later, and Kate had given up sitting still. Carlisle had her amused at the kitchen table, drawing and gluing and doing god knows what else. I watched from a distance; arts and crafts time really wasn't my thing.

We had to clean up for lunch, but she was overly eager to pull everything back out again as soon as the table was cleared. My boyfriend stayed with her, both controlling the mess and letting her do whatever she saw creatively fit, but I could see him getting tired pretty quickly. I didn't blame him; the kid had talked non-stop at him from the second she'd gotten in the car. The last thing we needed was for it to make him anxious.

I stood behind him, rubbing his shoulders and the tops of his arms. "Need a break?"

He glanced up, offering me an apologetic smile and hesitating before he nodded. "…kinda…"

Sitting next to him, I kissed his cheek. "You don't have to watch her, Carlisle, it's me that's supposed to be babysitting," I reminded him.

"Yeah, but…" He looked away, nibbling his lip. "We're together...I want to help…"

I smiled, kissing him again. I knew what he meant; he was only just overcoming being stuck on the outside of a family his whole life, and being involved was everything. "I know, but if you're not feeling well, it's alright to have time out. She loves you, but you're not responsible for entertaining her all day."

It seemed to put him at ease, and he relaxed a little, giving my hand a gentle squeeze as he stood up. After playfully telling Kate to behave for me, he disappeared down the hallway.

I was left to supervise as my niece attempted to glue a bunch of feathers and pipe cleaners onto a piece of paper. It looked like someone had skinned a multi-coloured chicken, and I tried not to cringe as some of the glue dripped onto the table. Carlisle had far more patience that I did, obviously.

A particularly violent gust of wind made all the windows rattle. Kate whined and glanced up at me for reassurance. It was making me a little nervous too; this was definitely the worst storm we'd had in a long time, and I certainly wasn't looking forward to driving in it when it came time to take her home. Eleazar and Carmen lived fairly close to their places of work, so at least they wouldn't have to go too far, but they lived across town from me.

"It's fine, Katie, finish your...finish with your feathers." I switched on the TV for a little background noise and did my best to ignore it. It didn't help; all that was playing was weather warnings and footage of absolute chaos around the city. As if to rub it in, the high pitched squeal of tyres on tarseal outside echoed through the house as a far was forced to slam on its breaks. I went to look out the window, making sure that there wasn't an actual accident out there.

I caught Carlisle doing the same thing through the window in the hall, and he looked over at me, worried. "You can't drive to your brother's place in this weather," he told me quietly, almost a plea.

"I don't want Eleazar trying to drive over here; he's a bad driver at the best of times," I groaned.

"She could stay the night with us," he suggested, picking at the edges of the book he was holding. His nervous behaviour didn't instill much faith in me.

"Well, yeah..but-"

"I'm _fine_ , Garrett," he insisted, rolling his eyes at me. "But I don't want you to get hurt, Gar…"

I was sure my heart melted, and I stepped forward to hold me hand against the side of his face, kissing him lightly. "I'll talk to Carmen, just stop your worrying."


	43. Chapter 43

My sister-in-law was overly grateful for the offer, relieved that neither her husband or I would be endangering ourselves or her daughter. I was relieved too, although the loss of having to share my boyfriend was hitting a little hard. We ate pizza for dinner - god forbid if her father found out - and heavily tipped the poor delivery guy for having to bring us our food in the rain.

Kate was boisterous after having spent the whole day sitting down, but she settled after a few bed-time stories read by my wonderful partner. And then we were _finally_ alone again. I kept the bedroom door closed enough to give us a little privacy, but not enough that the latch caught properly, trying to prevent her sneaking up on us without making noise.

I pushed Carlisle back against the bed, tugging his jeans undone before he could get his hands out from under himself. He didn't bother trying to stop me, grabbing a fistful of my shirt to pull me down on top of him.

"She's asleep, right?" he asked, untucking my clothing and edging his fingers under my shirt. The light flush in his cheeks gave away his nerves about it.

"She won't hear anything, Carlisle," I laughed, pressing kisses against his neck. "Relax, okay?"

He let me get his shirt off him and wrapped his legs around my waist, letting out a nervous gasp as I jerked his jeans down to his thighs. "You're really sure?"

"Yes. She's a little kid; she's out like a light as soon as she's settled." Running my fingernails down his sides made him shiver, and I laughed and kissed him again. I groaned as he tangled his fingers in my hair.

Immediately shushing me, his lips trailed down my throat, his teeth occasionally scraping my skin. Upon my prompt, he untangled himself from me enough for me to undress him, using what was left of my clothing as a means to hold me still.

I rolled onto my back, guiding him so that he fell with me. There was something awfully comforting about having his weight on top of me, and I traced gentle circles against the small of his back with my finger tips.

His kisses became softer, and he leaned into me, smiling when I wrapped my arms around him. He ran his fingers through my hair, gently brushing it back off my face and offering me a shy smile. "Why am I the only one undressed?" he asked innocently. The question had underlying nerves behind it, and I was still trying to adjust to this new self-consciousness he'd developed. It made things a little more difficult when we were intimate together, but he was trying, and that was all that mattered.

I gently pressed my lips against his. "Because that's how I like you."

"Unfair," he teased, sitting back so he could unbutton my pants without falling on me.

I let him do it, not about to protest. There was no hesitancy in his movements, not like when we first started dating and he was afraid of freaking me out. Having my clothes pulled off me like this wasn't entirely unpleasant, either. I trailed my fingers between his shoulder blades and down his spine to try and close what little space was between us.

Gripping my hips but not quite ready to touch me yet, he leaned down for another kiss. He was still distracted, though, and I knew he was listening for Kate. We weren't going to get anywhere like this.

"You're paranoid, Carlisle." My hands on his thighs was enough to distract him momentarily.

"Can you imagine what we'd have to tell Eleazar if his daughter walked in on _that_?" His cheeks grew a little pink at the thought of it, and I laughed and held the back of my hand against the side of his face to feel the heat.

It was going to hurt if we tried anything while he couldn't relax, and I half-pushed him off me, resigning myself to not going any further tonight - anniversary or not. He fell onto the mattress next to me, sliding one of his legs between mine as I rolled over to face him. His fingers teased my chest, and I closed my hand over his, gently squeezing his hand. "I love you."

"Love you too." Wriggling his arm between me and the bed, he hugged me and leaned his head against my shoulder, unable to resist a small smile.

I couldn't be bothered getting dressed again; finding pajamas was too hard, especially now my boyfriend had wrapped himself around me. He'd managed to pull his pants back up again, despite having no opportunity to do so. Kissing as much exposed skin I was able to, I rubbed his leg through the fabric. "Really?" I teased

He rolled his eyes, obediently taking them off and dropping them beside the bed. Still, he immediately covered us with the blankets. I let it slide, if that's what he needed to be comfortable.

With him cuddled into me the way he was, and the sound of howling wind outside, it was easy to fall asleep. I moulded myself to the shape of his body, locking my arms around his waist as he rolled over to put his back to me.

Folding his arms over mine, he shuffled back into me. "Goodnight, Garrett."

I kissed the back of his neck. "Good night."

.

.

Kate's violent sobbing woke us both up, and instantly I panicked; completely naked and faced with my already traumatised niece really wasn't ideal. Carlisle, somehow already entirely dressed, immediately got out of bed to collect her in his arms as she ran into the room, ignoring me while I struggled to pulled on pants.

"Come here, Katie," he soothed. Hugging her and letting her cling to him, he rubbed her back. He was a little bit awkward with her, clearly unsure of himself, but it made it all the sweeter to me."Are you okay? What happened?"

"…I-I-I h-had a b-bad dream…" she whimpered, sobbing into his shoulder. Her tears were soaking his shirt, and I was too groggy to really respond. "A-and it's dark a-and- and-"

"It's okay, you're safe. We've got you," he murmured to her, switching on the lamp to sooth her, apparently not noticing that I was still trying to dress myself and wasn't in any state to be illuminated yet.

"Carlisle," I scolded quickly, my cheeks heating up as I threw the blanket across my lap to cover myself.

He glanced back and laughed when he realised what was happening, picking up the crying child again and taking her into the kitchen with the promise of warm milk. As soon as they were gone, I threw on the closest pair of pants and followed them out.

She was still whining while he heated the cup, and I stood behind her, rubbing her back. I just hoped she wouldn't want to sleep with us; she'd spent the night in bed with me before when she was sick and it didn't bother me that much, but I knew Carlisle had a limit and I was pretty sure we were fast approaching it. The other option was calling my brother to come get her, if she pleaded for it, but I didn't want to do that either.

"You're okay, Kate," I sighed, sitting down and pulling her into my lap to hug her. "It's just a dream, love."

Carlisle put a mug on the tabe top in front of her, smiling when our eyes met.

"Not too hot?" I asked him quietly, not quite trusting his child-caring abilities just yet, despite how well he was doing.

He rolled his eyes. "It shouldn't be."

My niece took a big gulp of it without complaint, so I assumed it to be fine after all. "S-scary," she sobbed, not comforted yet.

"I know, it's over now."

She wasn't listening to me, focused on my boyfriend instead. As he walked past, she reached for him, whining. "Can I have a bedtime story?"

"Is that okay?" I asked him, apologetic. "If you don't want to, I can…" At least she wasn't asking to get in bed with us, I guess.

He nodded. "Go get back in bed, Katie. Take your drink." Something about his gentle manner with her made her listen immediately, and she did it without grizzling about it. He let her hold his hand as they went back down the hallway to the spare bedroom, and I trailed after them.

The sight of my boyfriend tucking her into bed was heartwarming. He managed to get her lying down and tucked up under the blankets within a minute or so, and I watched on as he read to her. He wanted to go back to bed too, and I bit back a smile as he employed the same tactic as many parents did, and skipped through the parts of the story he could without her noticing. It didn't matter; she was asleep soon after he started.

"Thank you," I whispered to him as we quietly went back to bed.

"At least you managed to put pants on," he teased me, fitting himself against my side as we lay down.

"She came running in here because she had a nightmare; I didn't need to terrorise her more." I squeezed him, smiling as he relaxed into me.

"She's not going to want to get up at six tomorrow, is she?" he groaned.

"I sure hope not."

.

.

As much as I loved my niece, it was a relief to have the house back to ourselves; she talked continuously, mostly at Carlisle, and the silence was wonderful. "You really are great with her, you know," I murmured to him, handing him a cup of coffee. He looked tired this morning - we both did, apparently; Carmen had commented on it when she picked up Kate.

Although we hadn't actually done anything, we'd both looked at each other, guilty. She'd brought us cake to make up for it, though, and I definitely wasn't complaining. We ate it on the couch, cuddled up under a blanket and listening to the rain outside as we watched a movie. The weather had eased a fair amount, but it was still wet and cold outside.

I kept him close to me as we sat together, still in the clothes that we wore to bed. It was a relief not to be working today; it meant I could stay home with Carlisle, _and_ that I didn't have to go outside. Both things were very welcome.

"I told you we should have kept clothes on," he teased quietly after a while, laughing as I pushed his shoulder playfully.

"You just be quiet." I stole a kiss to shut him up.

He hugged my arm as I reached over to wrap it around his shoulders, leaning into me again. The kisses he pressed against my neck were distracting, and I wasn't sure what was happening in the movie anymore, too focused on him leaning against me.

Letting my thumb brush over his cheek as I held my hand against the side of his face, I tilted his chin up so that he would look at me. His lips were soft against mine as I kissed him, but the hand he tangled in my hair was pulling a little. I pushed him back against the couch, letting my weight hit him as he wrapped his free arm around my waist. "We can take our clothes off now, though, right?" I teased.

"As long as the door is locked?" He fought back a shy smile, his fingers teasing the nape of my neck.

"Yes, the door is locked, Carlisle," I laughed, stealing more kisses and letting my lips work their way down his jaw. I buried my face against his neck, my teeth occasionally scraping his skin as I kissed his collarbones.

He ran his hands down my back, occasionally grabbing fistfuls of t-shirt as he arched his back under me. "I love you."

"I love you too," I murmured to him. His quiet hum in response made me chuckle, and I worked to get under his clothing. My hands were cold, so he was a little more jumpy than normal as I touched him, and it was making us both laugh. "Is this okay?" I checked, not wanting him to be uncomfortable.

Nodding, he wrapped his arms around my neck, his breath hot against my chest and his kisses a little distracting.

A day late or not, best first anniversary ever.

.

.

Carlisle was in at the office today, and had been for the past week. I'd barely seen him in the past seven days; he left before I woke up, and stumbled home after eight in the evening, only to quickly eat dinner and fall into bed. After all the time we'd spent together lately I was really feeling the separation. It was the second day of my weekend, and I hadn't been able to spend any time with him at all.

I made up my mind to go see him on his lunch break. Even if we could just have coffee together, it would be nice just to be with him for a little bit.

The shop was rather busy as I pushed open the door, and I didn't recognise the guy behind the counter. I joined the line of people, assuming I'd have to ask to see Carlisle seeming as he'd have no idea who I was.

"Are you wanting your boyfriend, Garrett?"

I turned to find the source of the voice, coming face to face with the woman I'd spoken to last time I was in here - Sue, if I remembered rightly. "Ah, yeah," I admitted guiltily. "I was hoping to kidnap him, actually."

It resulted in her calling his name out through the offices, with blatant disregard to the ear drums of anyone standing in front of her. She didn't get a response anyway, but it didn't dampen her spirits at all. "Come and keep me company while you wait for him to get his shit together; I'm on my lunch break anyway."

I nodded and followed her out the back, sitting at the table while she continued to chatter. I was quite fond of being in here, honestly, and it provided a sound capsule from the noise of the customers on the other side of the wall.

Sue frowned, sighing. "A stock shipment has been lost, and the bosses aren't happy about it; it's over Carlisle's head until it gets sorted out. He's pretty stressed, I think." After a moment, she chuckled and rolled her eyes to herself. "I guess you know that, though; you do live with the boy."

"No, he never told me that," I grumbled, shaking my head. "Is that why he'd been here so much lately?"

She nodded. "That, and he's applied to become a regional manager, so he's doing everything he can to stay in the company's goodbooks."

I frowned. "He didn't tell me that, either."

"He's been working his ass off; we'll all be disappointed for him if he doesn't get it." We both looked up as the boy in question wandered in. He looked a little down and definitely worn out, not really noticing that I was there as he hurried through the room to get back out to the counter. "Carlisle," she interrupted, catching his attention.

He stopped and turned to look at us, his face lighting up as our eyes met. "You came for lunch?" Smiling instantly, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders as he stood in front of me, leaning into me as I hugged his middle.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in ages." I pulled him into me, making him slip so that he fell into my lap. Immediately after doing it I second-guessed myself, not sure how he'd feel about this in front of his coworkers.

Thankfully, he laughed, leaning in to kiss me and resting his head against my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Gar...I know I should be home more, I-"

"Regional manager, huh?" I squeezed him, pressing kisses against his neck and jaw.

His face flushed a little, and he looked accusingly at Sue, only to be met with an eye roll. "Ah...yeah...maybe…? Hopefully?"

"I'm proud of you. At least one of us has a little initiative within their career."

"...It means no more counter work, and-"

"And no more cleaning up after everyone else," Sue put in, standing up and pushing her chair back with her legs. "No more working under people who don't care how many hours you put in for them."

"It's not that bad, Sue," he corrected innocently.

"Perhaps you just don't know how to be treated well, Carlisle. It'll do you good to get out of here."

He watched her walk out of the room, and then glanced up at me. "I applied three weeks ago, and they haven't told me anything about it...it's not happening; don't worry about it." The disappointment showed on his face and he sighed quietly.

"Should you be doing all this while you're-"

"I feel fine, Garrett," he interrupted. "I just want to move forward and forget about all the shit that happened. I've had enough." That was...healthy, I supposed. Hopefully.

"Alright, just...just don't wear yourself out."


	44. Chapter 44

**As usual, I've tried to fix all my typos, but there's most likely still some lurking which I have missed.**

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The winter weather was quickly driving me crazy. Despite only having two days off a week, I was bored in the evenings when Carlisle didn't come home until late, and spending all day by myself was becoming old. On the first sunny day in weeks, I threw open all the windows, wanting the stale air out and letting the coolness of outside wash in.

I wasn't one for cleaning, normally, but at the first hint of spring, I was dragging out the vacuum. I didn't think anything of the commotion I was making until my boyfriend came home from work at eight o'clock. He was bemused as he watched me, standing in the kitchen and clutching the bag of takeaways.

"Since when do you clean?" he asked, letting me kiss him once I was close enough.

I took the food out of his hands. "I'm not always disgusting. Thanks for getting dinner."

Laughing, he just shook his head as I grabbed out our plates. "I don't think 'spring cleaning' should be taken literally, Garrett. You've still got a month to go, anyway," he teased.

I rolled my eyes. "I want to get new curtains."

He shoved a forkful of chinese into his mouth to try and stop himself laughing. It almost worked. _Almost_. "Home decorating?"

"Sort of, I guess, though I can't actually do anything seeming as we don't own the house. Will you come choose the fabric with me?"

"It's your house, Gar, I don't care what fabric we use to block out the light." Although he was still amused, my smile started to fade a little.

I tried to pretend that him referring to it as 'my' home instead of 'ours' didn't sting, but I couldn't move past it; we'd lived together for months, split all the bills equally and both took care of what little property upkeep had to be done. It was his place as much as mine, I'd just lived here longer. I really didn't like him feeling like he was staying in someone else's house, but I didn't know what to say about it, keeping my mouth shut about it instead; this wasn't the first time he'd mentioned it. "You trust my colour coordination skills that much?" I asked instead, forcing a smile.

He condescendingly patted my hand on the table top. "I'm sure you can decide on a shade of beige by yourself...I'll come if it means that much to you, though..." Offering a shy smile, he glanced up so our eyes met.

I threaded our fingers together, squeezing his hand. "I'd like that a lot."

We finished our food in almost-silence, showering together before falling into bed. I locked my arms around his chest, craving the intimacy. Although we used the same soap, he smelt good, and I leaned my head against his shoulder, kissing his neck. His fingertips lightly brushed over my forearm as he leaned back into me.

"Our invitation to Edward and Bella's wedding came today," he mumbled, fighting falling asleep.

Groaning, I wrapped myself around him a little more. They had been nice enough to include my name on the envelope, but I still hadn't shaken the feeling of being an imposter whenever I was with Carlisle's friends. It must have been the same feeling he got around my family, so I couldn't complain about it. "Okay."

The word 'wedding' was enough to provoke a bit of anxiety in me. Despite the progress I'd made, group meals like that were still a nightmare, and I didn't really appreciate the dress code, either. My brother's wedding had been down right torture, despite the ceremony being lovely, and I'd never been more pleased to leave an event. It made me sound like an asshole, but it is what it is.

Sensing my discomfort, Carlisle rolled over to face me. He wrapped his arms around me, teasing the small of my back with his fingertips. "We can just go to the ceremony, we don't have to stay for the after party," he assured me softly.

I shook my head. "No, they're your friends. I'm not ruining this. I can suck it up long enough to have dinner." _I hope._

"You won't be ruining anything." He kissed me gently, slipping his knees between mine to get closer as he leaned his cheek against my collarbone. "As long as we go to the important bit, it'll be fine."

.

I was _almost_ glad to be going to work the next morning, just so I had something to do, but boredom wasn't quiet as bad as dealing with my boss. I was already running late, speeding out of the driveway in a hurry. It didn't take long for me to get stuck in traffic on the freeway, though, and I quickly zoned out.

The impact against the back of my car scared the absolute shit out of me, and I was thrown forward in my seat. My seatbelt constricted around me at the abrupt shock, digging into my torso before slamming me back against my seat. The airbag deployed a second later, covering the inside of my car with white powder.

I couldn't breathe, gasping for breath as the violence of it winded me. My head was swimming, and I was barely aware that someone had just hit me from behind. Coughing and coughing and coughing, I tried to get my lungs to stop burning, my hands shaking as I unlocked my seatbelt.

My ears were ringing and it was all very surreal. Someone interrupted me, banging loudly on my window. "Are you okay? The paramedics are on their way," they shouted to me through the glass.

I nodded, slowly opening my door to get out. People were standing around staring, and I realised there were more than a few cars involved - a nose-to-tail incident. Thank god it hadn't been at speed.

My legs were too wobbly to walk very far, and I was dizzy, so I just sat on the curb and kept my head between my knees. Nothing really hurt that much, but there was a lump in my throat anyway. I was semi-aware of the fuss going on around me; people complaining and stressed that we were stuck for now, and I wanted all of them to shut up so I could think straight.

A few minutes later, someone crouched in front of me. Their uniform indicated that they were the aforementioned medics. "Are you alright? What's your name?"

"...Garrett Parker...I-I'm fine, I think…" I stammered. My voice sounded hollow in my ears.

"Can you stand up? Let's get you into the ambulance, and we can do a full assessment there, maybe get some pain relief into you, yeah?"

"No- I'm not hurt, I'll just go home," I argued. The fuss didn't make sense to me, until I glanced up and realised that a few people did actually seem to be hurt.

He ignored me, helping me to my feet and to the emergency vehicle anyway. There was far too much poking and proding before they decided that I wasn't injured badly enough to require going to hospital.

Their faith in me didn't last long; as I stepped out of the ambulance, my legs collapsed out from under me, and suddenly I was on the pavement again. It only resulted in them hauling me back in the door with renewed insistence that I go to the emergency room.

"I-I just want to go home...please…" I pleaded with them, starting to become nervous as the shock wore off. I really wanted Carlisle, but my phone was still in my car, and they weren't about to let me get it. It made not crying really fucking hard, as embarrassing as it was to be so upset over something so minor.

They argued with me about it, and I was getting more and more worked up, trying to force myself to calm down before I made a scene, or further convinced them that there was something wrong with me.

They were somewhat ignoring me now; some girl had come in bleeding and was clearly in more of a state than I was. The next person who paid any attention to me was a police officer, intent of dragging out my very limited understanding of what had happened in agonising detail. He was a little more sympathetic, though. "You might be stuck here a while, did you want me to call someone for you?" he asked kindly.

"...my partner...please…" I recited his phone number, hoping like hell that Carlisle actually answered his phone; he would be involved in something by this time of the morning, and if he was behind the counter, he wouldn't have his phone on him.

Thankfully, it only took a few seconds before the officer was talking to someone, and I didn't really care if it was my boyfriend or Sue; either way, he'd get the message. He was obviously thrown by my 'partner' being a guy, and it would have been funny if the circumstances were different. "He's on his way," he promised. "Are you okay sitting here by yourself?"

I nodded, not really able to talk past the lump in my throat. I managed to hold back the tears until he'd left me alone, but I still wasn't entirely sure _why_ I was crying in the first place; nothing hurt that badly, and I wasn't so anxious now that my boyfriend was coming, but I couldn't stop it anyway. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to focus on taking deep breaths. My ribs were a bit sore from the force of the seatbelt which made it a little harder. It wasn't the end of the world.

I wasn't really aware of time passing until a hand was gently placed on my shoulder, and I glanced up at Carlisle as he crouched in front of me. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly, his eyes dark with worry.

I nodded, but it can't have been very convincing at this point. "...happy you're here…"

"Are you hurt, though?" He kissed my cheek as I told him I wasn't, moving to sit on the bench next to me. "Do you know if you have to go to hospital?"

"...just want to go home…" I mumbled to him, leaning against him as he carefully wrapped his arm around me. My head was starting to hurt and I was getting quite nauseous, but I knew if I threw up they would definitely send me up to the emergency unit. The dizziness didn't help.

"You're very pale," he murmured, pressing his hand against my forehead. I knew I didn't have a fever; I was quite cold, really.

"...think I'm going to be sick…" It was a warning, if nothing else.

He stood up, picking up one of the sick-bags they kept - if there was one place to vomit, it may as well be in an ambulance. "Lie down; I don't want you to pass out." He guided me to lie with my head in his lap, gently rubbing circles against the small of my back.

"...my back hurts…" I whined quietly. The longer they gave me to think about it, the more aches and pains I noticed. It wasn't agony, though, and there wasn't really a point in telling anyone else.

He paused, drawing his hand back. "Do you want me to stop?"

"...no…"

"Okay, should I tell one of the medics?"

"...just stay for a bit," I pleaded, tightening my fingers around his free hand. I couldn't really think straight, but being close to him was helping. It seemed like an eternity before anyone came to see us again, but Carlisle squeezed my shoulder when one of the paramedics jumped up into the back door. I forced myself to sit up and be a little more coherent. "Can I go home?" Short of grovelling to them, I was losing my patience.

The woman frowned, glancing at Carlisle and the way I held his hand. "Do you two live together?"

My boyfriend nodded, absentmindedly rubbing my shoulder as he recited our address. After what felt like hours of debate, she relented and let me go, too busy with more serious cases to care. She made Carlisle promise to send me to the emergency room the minute anything went wrong, but I was just glad to be out of there.

The world spun as I got to my feet, and I leaned against my boyfriend to keep my balance. "Careful," he murmured to me, holding my waist. I waited until I'd gotten a grip before I tried to get out of the ambulance, not wanting a repeat of last time.

We quickly discovered another problem; we were going to have to get the car out of this mess somehow. The only option we had was to hope it still goes and drive it home, but I wasn't in any hurry to get back behind the wheel. I didn't want to have to sit in a car at all, really, but it was a damn site better than walking, so I didn't have a choice.

Carlisle took my keys from me, and I tried not to look at the damage as I climbed into the passenger's seat. Sitting down aggravated the pain in my back, and I gritted my teeth to hold back a complaint. I gripped the sick-bag, hoping the queasy feeling in my stomach might subside soon; my poor car didn't need to be crashed into _and_ thrown up in on the same day.

Thankfully, it started without a problem as he turned the key in the ignition. Something that wasn't supposed to be rattling was making a bit of noise, but no alerts flashed up on the dashboard; it was a good thing I'd been hit from behind. Whatever was under the bonnet had been fairly protected, so at least all the important bits were working.

Something metallic scraped against the curb as Carlisle backed away from it, and I groaned. He glanced over at me, confused. "Are you okay?"

"That sounds expensive," I grumbled, more concerned about my car than anything else at this point.

"You've got a pretty decent dent in the back," he admitted. "But at least it starts, right?"

I nodded, wincing as the motion hurt my neck. "Yeah, I'm just glad I was where I was; any further back and I'd have been in trouble…"

"You're going to have to be careful with yourself for the next few days." Running my leg, he squeezed my thigh gently.

"My boss will have to give me time off now." I hoped he would, anyway. My bad mood grew as Carlisle picked up my phone off the floor and set in on my lap. The screen was shattered from being tossed forward, and despite being fully charged, it refused to turn on. _Fuck._

"We'll sort it out, Garrett. Don't worry about it now." He took my hand, fighting to get my car out of the tight gap it's been wedged into between the mass of other cars.

I couldn't afford to be buying a new phone while I needed to fix my car, but it couldn't be helped right now.

.

.

Home had never looked so good. The motion of driving was making the nausea unbearable, and I was fighting vomiting. I really didn't feel good as I got out of the car, needing to brace myself against my door to keep my balance.

"Hey...careful," Carlisle murmured to me, shoving the keys into his pocket so that he could hold onto me. I was a little steadier with his hands on me, managing to survive the elevator ride up to our apartment floor. He promised to get me painkillers, and I sat on the couch.

Wanting the room to stop spinning, I leaned forward, bracing my elbows against my knees and resting my head in my hands. It wasn't until my boyfriend touched my shoulder that I realised I wasn't paying attention, and he looked worried as I glanced up at him.

"Did you hit your head?" he asked, kneeling in front of me.

"...I don't think so?"

"Tell me if you aren't well, yeah?" Sitting next to me, he ran his fingers through my hair as I instinctively leaned against him.

"...yeah…" The aching was starting to get to me, and I tangled my fingers in his shirt as a distraction. Suddenly tired, I gave in to the comfort, letting myself start to fall asleep.

.

.

Showering had been interesting. I couldn't twist very well, and I'd almost had to get my boyfriend help me undress because I couldn't pull my shirt over my head. As soon as I glanced in the mirror, I was glad I didn't have to.

The bruising from my seatbelt was fucking horrific. Where it had contracted across my chest as I was thrown forward, my skin was dark and purple. It didn't hurt as badly as it looked, thank god, but twisting or moving my spine very much was definitely more tender than I would have liked. I didn't want Carlisle to see it - it would only worry him - but I felt his hand against the small of my back before I could do anything about it. He'd stayed home with me all day, offering me comfort whenever I was awake, and staying with me while I was asleep.

"God, Garrett, you're so lucky you didn't break anything..." he murmured softly, forcing a smile as I turned to face him.

"Yeah, I would have gotten out of the wedding if I had." I was still a little bit too shaky to tease him, but he laughed anyway as I held my hand against the side of his face.

Rolling his eyes at me, he leaned up to kiss me. I knew he was being very careful not to do anything which would evoke pain, and it was sweet, albeit unnecessary. "Come lie down; you must be sore by now."

I wasn't fighting with that.


	45. Chapter 45

**A while ago I started writing alternative scenes for this story, mostly from Carlisle's POV, and I decided I may as well post them as well, so I've created a separate fic as not to interrupt this one.**

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 **So, if you're interested in more of the boys, here we go:** s/12854569/1/The-Boy-in-the-Book-Shop-Outtakes

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The next morning, I was overly relieved that Carlisle stayed home with me. I didn't want to have to ask him, but he called in sick without me needing to. Everything ached, and moving really sucked. My boyfriend bought me coffee in bed, giving me an excuse to stay there even longer, god bless him. I didn't want to look at how bad the bruises were now; I knew it wasn't going to be pretty.

Instead, I listened to Carlisle on the phone in the kitchen, talking to Sue about something else that hadn't been going right in the shop. He really needed to be there today, and the guilt that I was preventing him from going was slowly growing. Despite the fact I'd be fine, I was anxious about him leaving; with my phone broken, I had no way of contacting him once he was gone, and if anything happened to him, no one would be able to get hold of me. Irrational, yes, but true. I guess love does make you crazy.

This went on until after lunch, with an hour or so of peace in between calls. He frowned as he settled next to me again, reaching over to pull my shirt away from my shoulder to check the injury. "Are you _sure_ you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Carlisle; it looks worse than it is. The paramedics would have sent me to hospital if it was that concerning." I threaded my fingers through his, squeezing his hand.

"I guess so." Leaning down to kiss me, he used his free hand to brush my hair off my face.

I shuffled up the bed, knotting my fingers in his shirt to tug him closer. In an attempt not to fall on me, he kept one hand on the bed by my hip, not letting his weight hit me. It didn't worry me that much, and I managed to get underneath his clothing as he pressed kisses against my neck. I dragged my fingernails across his back as his teeth scraped my skin, slipping my other hand down to grip his thigh. I was quickly growing to hate his jeans, tugging them slightly.

Unfortunately, his phone started vibrating again, and we both groaned as he sat back. His cheeks stained pink as he spoke to Sue again, wriggling away from get off the bed. He froze in the doorway, his eyes widening as he paused mid-step.

I propped myself up on my elbows, wondering what on earth had gone wrong now. "What?" I asked as he lowered the phone again.

"Someone from head office is at the shop; I have to go, Gar...Will you be okay?" Looking worried, he was holding his phone in both hands in front of him, watching me pleadingly.

"I'll be fine," I assured him, getting a little nervous anyway.

"It shouldn't be for too long, and I'll come straight home again?" He was studying my face, and I hoped I was hiding my anxiety well enough to fool him. My acting skills weren't the best, but I could keep my fingers crossed.

I just nodded, not trusting my voice.

He blew out a tight breath, starting to stress. "I can...I'll call Sue back, and maybe I can just talk to them over the phone, and-"

"Just go, Carlisle. I'll manage; there's nothing actually wrong with me."

Sitting on the bed again, he captured my hand. "But it's upsetting you," he murmured, squeezing my fingers.

There wasn't a point in lying to him. "I just...I don't like that I can't contact you once you're gone...I feel fine, it just makes me nervous." What scared me most was him not being able to tell me if something happened, but I knew I was being ridiculous. He was just going in to work. It wasn't miles away, his co-workers knew where he lived, and he'd probably be back in a few hours.

Pausing a moment, he disappeared down the hallway. He came back with his laptop, sitting on the bed in front of me. "Email me; I'll check my inbox every half an hour, and I'll come back if you need me to."

"This really is unnecessary," I mumbled, a little embarrassed about how petty I was being.

"But does it make you feel better?" he asked softly, rubbing my hand.

I nodded; it really did. "Yeah…"

"Then it's necessary." Leaning forward, he kissed me gently. "I'll be back as soon as I can. And don't you dare try and make dinner; you stay put."

"You're mothering me," I teased as much as I was able to.

He rolled his eyes at me but didn't dispute my statement. "I love you."

"I love you too."

.

.

Having a connection to Carlisle did make me less panicky about the whole thing, but it didn't help time pass any faster. Eventually, I got sick of lying down, and hauled my ass out of bed. I couldn't resist a peek at the marks my seatbelt at left; the bruises felt hot and swollen. Sure enough, the colour had deepened, and I pulled my shirt over it again with a grimace.

Standing too long made my back hurt, and I quickly found myself slouched on the couch and nursing whiplash. Downing a couple of painkillers helped to dull the ache, but all I really wanted was to be cuddled up with my boy in bed.

After spending a good few hours emailing several mechanics, trying to organise someone to deal with my car, I was sure I was going to go batshit crazy. My boyfriend had already promised to attempt to drive it to wherever it needed to go, so that was that sorted, but no one was really willing to check it over. It was winding me up to no end, and I was quickly becoming a turbulent child, forced to give up asking before I snapped at someone who's fault it wasn't.

I did eventually end up lying down again, bored shitless and trying to find some position that was comfortable enough to stop the aching. Having the laptop helped. I set it on my stomach, lying awkwardly against the pillows as I dove into the internet. It was taking all of my will power not to have a quick look through Carlisle's browser history, but he had trusted me enough to leave his laptop unlocked with me, so I forced myself to be good. Ultimate relationship goals, really.

It was only after I woke up to the sound of the curtains being tugged closed, finding myself already covered in a blanket with the laptop on the bedside table beside me, that I realised I'd fallen asleep again. Gentle fingers brushed my hair off my face, and Carlisle leaned down to kiss me. "Hungry?" he asked softly.

I caught hold of his hand, kissing the back of it. "Sort of. How was work? Was everything okay?" Trying to sit up required too much effort, so I pulled him down instead, shuffling over so he could comfortably lie beside me.

He placed his hand on my chest, fidgeting with my shirt, but didn't lean against me like he normally did. "One of the people from head office had come down to make sure I hadn't fucked up too badly," he sighed.

"And were they happy with you?" I pressed, gently guiding him so that he rested his head against my shoulder. The small amount of pain it caused was worth the intimacy.

Although he complied, he was very careful, kissing my neck as he settled down. "They must have been; I've got an interview for the new position next week." He was half hiding a smile, clearly relieved.

I squeezed him, grinning at the ceiling. "I'm so proud of you; it's about time something went right for you."

"I haven't got the job yet," he reminded me. He sounded happy despite it. "Rosalie is going to fix your car, by the way." Although he said it like I should know who that was, I couldn't place the name, frowning. "Emmett's girlfriend?" he clarified, hiding another smile.

"The guy that was excited to meet me, right?" I asked, thinking back to a few months ago and trying to match names with faces. It was a bit of a relief to me that he was talking to his friends again; he hadn't really spoken to anyone other than Alistair and I since he'd come back from London.

He nodded, rolling his eyes at the memory. "Yeah; the one who wanted to torment us."

"Thank you…" Apparently, I didn't need to tell him how stressed out about it I was; he was always one step ahead of me. Dinner wasn't appealing now that I had my boy beside me again, and I started to get comfortable for the night.

Carlisle wasn't allowing me to get away with it, though. He pulled away after a few minutes, sitting up. "Come on, I'll make us something to eat."

.

.

After Carlisle had told me that Rosalie didn't want payment for fixing the shitty piece of metal I called a vehicle, I was determined to at least bake something as a thank you. My back still hurt quite a lot, but my boy intervened whenever I attempted something that made me wince. It was sort of fun; I'd missed cooking like this. Now that I wasn't left on my own very often, and didn't have hours of solitude a day, I had stopped cooking as entertainment. This was a nice reminder of how much I enjoyed it, and I silently vowed to start making proper meals again instead of the half-ass attempts I made now.

A couple of batches of cookies later -and a realisation that I was a male adult and this was really lame - and we were trying to start the car again. Something about the way Carlisle thought that turning the key in the ignition _harder_ might get it going, although it had already refused, was making me chuckle to myself.

He rolled his eyes at me once he'd caught me laughing, but got out again to try and figure out what was going on. He resorted to calling Rosalie, looking very, _very_ unsure of himself as she tried to talk him through doing god knows what under the hood. It took a good ten minutes of him grumbling and cursing under his breath before he'd managed to do whatever she was trying to get him to.

I was unexpectedly nervous as we pulled into their driveway. Thankfully, the drive had gone okay, but I was anxious about meeting Carlisle's friends again.

I was fidgeting as he knocked on the front door, and he reached back to squeeze my fingers in reassurance. It wasn't like I could just wait in the car, either, so I was going to have to get over it pretty quickly.

.

.

I liked the dog an awful lot. Not as much as my boyfriend did, though. The insanely curly creature had thrown itself into Carlisle's lap the moment he'd sat down, and he'd spent the last half an hour running his fingers through it's hair. I'd never really seen him with an animal before, and I was barely resisting taking a photo of the two of them because it was so sweet. The only thing that was stopping me was that I couldn't do it discreetly.

I was pretty sure I looked like absolute trash, sitting on their white leather sofas in jeans and the shirt that I wore yesterday _and_ slept in last night. My boyfriend looked like a little kid, on the massive couch, the image amplified by the massive beast in his lap.

Rosalie and Emmett's carpet was a perfect cream, and their kitchen was spotless. Fuck, even all their cutlery matched. The plate the cookies sat on was obnoxiously blue against their stone bench tops, the one misplaced item in the room.

"Any excuse to cuddle the dog," Rosalie grumbled to me as she past, her smirk suggesting she was joking as she glanced at Carlisle. By the look of it, he'd trade me to have it in his bed, and she laughed when I told her that. "You're not wrong there. Come show me what you did to your car."

I awkwardly followed her out into their picket-fence-surrounded-yard, almost laughing at the sight of my pitiful piece of shit that I was determined to call a vehicle sitting in their driveway. Behind Emmett's jeep, it looked like a scrapheap. "...uh...someone hit me from behind...and then I ran it up the curb," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck for something to do.

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Of course you did. How long did it take for your _girlfriend_ to get it started this morning? I bet that's the first time the bookworm has ever had his hands under a bonnet." That was added for Carlisle's benefit as he came to stand on the deck.

"Hey, we made you food," he protested, fighting laughing. The dog was sitting at his feet, and he was unconsciously stroking its ears.

"No, _Garrett_ made the cookies, and you're just a nuisance."

He didn't even attempt to defend himself, coming over the watch as tools were dragged out and Rose got to work. "Would I still be a nuisance if I dog-sat for you next time you and Em went away?"

This only produced another eye roll. "Such a hardship, Carlisle. Besides, I doubt Garrett wants dog hair all through his house."

' _Our_ house', I almost corrected, unable to stop a frown. "As long as it doesn't chew the furniture," I laughed instead.

"The worst it'll do is piss on the carpet."

After we got the car into their garage, it took another hour for Rosalie to sort everything out. Another hour of talking before we were able to head home again. They both hugged me goodbye upon leaving, and the acceptance made my chest swell with happiness.

Even more so, my car was running smoothly. Sure, it was still dented in places and had more than a few scratches, but it started straight away and the engine sounded healthy. I'd be forever in Rose's debt.

"We should go get ice cream?" I suggested on the way home. Considering the amount of cookies we'd shared with the other two, we really didn't need it, but cravings couldn't be helped.

Carlisle didn't need much convincing, and soon enough we were sitting in what little sun we could find in the middle of a park, sweet treat in hand.

Choosing something that was literally frozen while the temperature was as low as it was seemed rather stupid, but wonderful all the same. It was making my boyfriend a little shivery, but I had him sitting between my legs in front of me, my free arm around his waist to hold him against me.

He waited until I had swallowed the last mouthful before saying anything. "You realise you just did that in public with a panic attack?" he asked softly, reaching back to squeeze my thigh.

I lay back on the grass, taking him with me and laughing as he maneuvered himself around so that he could face me. "I guess I did...it's just ice cream, though?"

"Doesn't matter, you still did it," he murmured, gently pressing his lips against mine. One hand tangled in my hair, the other caressing the back of my neck, still being careful of my injuries.

"Thank you for fixing my car." I stole another kiss, rubbing my hand up and down his back.

"One less thing to stress about? How are you feeling?" His smile was especially sweet, I decided, when the sun filtered through his hair like that.

I brushed my hand through it as an excuse to touch him. "Good. I'm really good, Carlisle."


	46. Chapter 46

My boss was merciful enough to give me a week off work - probably unnecessary, but I wasn't going to complain about paid time off. I had, however, made the mistake of mentioning the accident to my parents as a passing comment, and in typical mother fashion, mum had blown it _way_ out of proportion.

There wasn't anything I could say to stop them coming over. I'd made a feeble attempt to clean up the house a little bit, so they didn't think their son was completely disgusting, but I couldn't get much done before my back hurt too much to continue.

From the moment she came in the door, Mum was fussing. She brought the ingredients to make dinner on the way over, and now she was in my kitchen, roasting meat and cutting vegetables and refusing help from anyone who offered it. It was appreciated, of course, but she had gone into overdrive.

"This really isn't a big deal," I grumbled to dad as he sat next to me on the couch. "Both of you are hugely overreacting."

He laughed, rolling his eyes. "I know that, but you try explaining to your mother that her _baby_ having an accident isn't the end of the world."

"It was barely a tap." As much as I loved them, I mostly just wanted the piece and quiet. Carlisle wasn't home yet, and I hadn't been able to get a hold of him to tell him that my parents were here. I was dreading him coming home to them with being warned first. I went to meet him when I heard his key in the lock, wanting to intercept him before he came into contact with anyone else.

"Hey…" He smiled as he saw me, wrapping his arms around me and immediately leaning up to kiss me. "What's for dinner? It smells great?" Another kiss, this one slightly more heated, one hand tangled in my hair and the other against my cheek as he stood on his toes to reach up.

Slightly uncomfortable and knowing my father was standing not far behind me, I squeezed his waist, gently rocking him back onto his heels. " _Mum_ is cooking for us," I told him, trying to be casual about it. "Her and dad came to see us."

Immediately, his cheeks flushed pink and he bit his lip. "...oh…"

I quickly kissed his forehead, rubbing his arm before stepping back so he could come in the door. I wasn't sure what dad's reaction was going to be - I knew he had seen it. This was the first time he had seen this amount of intimacy between us.

My father was blushing a little when I glanced back at him, but he didn't look upset. Just conflicted. He coughed once before managing to speak. "...Hello, Carlisle," he murmured stiffly, forcing an awkward smile.

My boyfriend looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him, still holding my hand and standing slightly behind me. "...Hi, Sir," he mumbled back. They looked at each other for another second before simultaneously diverting their gazes. "Sorry…" he whispered to me over my shoulder.

"We're allowed to kiss in our own house," I whispered back, chuckling to myself.

"Feeling okay?" he asked anxiously - no doubt thinking the worst because of the presence of my parents.

"I'm fine. Mum just didn't believe me," I grumbled, turning to hug him again. It was a little more platonic this time, but I leaned my cheek on the top of his head as he cuddled into me. "Was work alright?"

He just nodded, a little shy now that he knew we had guests. "It was okay."

Not wanting to be completely rude and ignore my parents, I quickly stole another kiss before letting him go, turning away to distract dad. I hated sport, but he loved it, and he wasn't going to pick on Carlisle if he was distracted by the baseball. I sat on the couch next to him, and my boyfriend wandered into the kitchen to help my mother. Apparently, he was going to be the only person she didn't immediately shoo away.

"Garrett," my father started. His voice was tense, and I glanced over at him apprehensively. He was silent for a moment before continuing. "I don't care if you're, uh, affectionate with your partner while I'm around. You don't have to hide your relationship from me."

"I'm not." I wasn't. Mostly.

He frowned. "You really love him, don't you." It wasn't really a question.

"Yes, dad, I really do."

"Alright, then."

.

.

Dinner was actually nice, for once. Mum's cooking was wonderful, and the conversation around the table was warm, despite Carlisle and my father sitting across from each other. I managed to eat without feeling sick, and my boyfriend managed to finish all of what was on his plate for the first time in weeks.

We watched movies together after they'd gone home. I was lying with my head in Carlisle lap, and he was fidgeting with my hair. That, coupled with the pain killers I'd taken, was making me horribly sleepy and the cuddling was definitely welcome.

"Want to go to bed, Gar?" he teased me softly, his hand trailing down to squeeze my shoulder.

I rolled back so that I could look at him, trapping his fingers in mine. "No, because when I wake up again, you'll be running off to work, and I won't get to see you until this time tomorrow." And my phone was still fucked. The email thing was sweet and all, but today had proven how dependant on the contact I'd become. It was driving me nuts; I felt so fucking stupid for being so concerned about a tiny piece of technology. It had never mattered to me until I had someone to worry about.

I lasted another hour before Carlisle all but dragged me to bed.

.

.

"I have to go, I'll be back tonight," he promised, kissing me as I tried to wake up enough to wish him a good day.

"...love you…" I managed to get out, forcing myself to sit up to hug him goodbye. It was still dark outside, and I wasn't used to being awake this early. I was sure that we'd just lay down, and he was already leaving.

"I love you too." Carefully squeezing me before pulling back, he headed for the hallway. He paused in the doorway, gently tossing a small box onto the bed next to me. "Call me if you need me, okay?" He didn't give me time to comprehend what he meant, disappearing down the hallway.

"I'll be fine, Carlisle," I called out to him as he left, wincing as the motion pulled my back. It was starting to hurt less, though, and the bruising was already starting to fade. I fell back against the mattress, fumbling around in the bed sheets until I found what he'd thrown at me.

'Call me' indeed. After holding the power button down for a few seconds, the phone came to life, already fully charged. _Always one step ahead of me._ He was so sweet it was going to be the death of me.

.

.

Seeming as my car was fixed, I made the decision to pick him up from work. I sent him a text from the parking lot, grinning to myself as I got an instant response. Another five minutes and he was in the passenger's seat, offering a shy smile as he glanced over at me.

I leaned over to kiss him, squeezing his thigh. "Thank you. Thank you so much. You really didn't need to do that."

He hugged me as much as he could, ignoring how awkward it was across the gearbox. "I don't want you to be anxious...that's not fair, not after all the time you spent home with me when I didn't feel good…I want to be there for you too."

"That was a bit different, Carlisle," I chuckled, trying not to frown. It wasn't something I wanted him to feel guilty about.

He shook his head, knotting his fingers through mine as I started the car. "Thanks for coming to get me."

"You got the car fixed, didn't you?" I didn't let him think too hard about that one, knowing he'd pass the credit onto Rose, but I didn't see it that way. "Let's go get food; I'm starving."

He didn't fight me on that, grumbling something about not being able to stop for lunch. Despite the fact that we had plenty of leftovers from last night's dinner, he practically begged me to stop and get pizza, going as far as ordering it online as soon as I agreed.

"Could you pick a more basic takeaway?" I teased, laughing.

He just rolled his eyes, hiding a smile. "It's good though." Thankfully, he was gradually regaining weight, and wasn't uncomfortably thin anymore. Pizza would definitely help.

It wasn't long before we were back home, sitting at the kitchen table and eating out of boxes. "Your mother keeps asking me to keep an eye on you," he told me between mouthfuls.

I groaned. "Jesus, imagine how bad she would be if I was _actually_ injured. She'd be unbearable." That didn't stop it from being cute that she spoke to Carlisle.

He glanced down, fidgeting a little. "I like it...talking to Sasha...it's nice…" he admitted softly, shy about it.

"Well, she's set on you being her son-in-law, so that's a damn good thing." And so fucking sweet. It made him smile, though he tried to hide it and watched the table. "She likes you a lot. _And_ dad gave me permission to kiss you in his presence." It was like a bloody teenage romance.

"Thank god for that," he laughed. The relief on his face couldn't quite be smothered despite his joking.

I reached across the table, holding my hand against his cheek and tilting his chin up so that he would look at me; he still looked so unsure about it that it killed me. "Hey...I think your problems with him are over. He's accepting you, Carlisle...you're part of this family."

It didn't look like he completely believed me but he smiled all the same.

.

.

My time off extended into Carlisle's weekend, and uncharacteristically he didn't want to move until after 9AM. It was nice, though. My back wasn't so sore, and I curled my body around his, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling tightly against him. He slipped one of his legs between mine, folding his arms around my own; he was cuddly and I liked it a lot.

We had leftover pizza for breakfast, and somehow Carlisle snuck back in bed while I was sorting out the recycling, curled up with a book by the time I noticed he'd gone. I left him alone for a bit; no doubt personal space was a blessing when you worked in retail.

I thought I could get away with folding and putting away washing, sitting on the end of the bed while I did it, but I didn't get further than a couple of t-shirts before I heard the blankets rustle and arms locked around my chest.

He pressed his lips against the base of my neck, slowly kissing up my jaw as I leaned back against him. He shuffled out from under me until I was flat on my back, leaning down to steal another kiss and running his fingers through my hair.

"So much for the folding," I chuckled, accidently knocking it all onto the floor as I pulled him into me.

"I'll redo it later," he promised, nibbling his lip as I slid my hands down his thighs.

"Deal." Shifting him so that he was on top of me, straddling my hips, I pulled his t-shirt over his head. I could barely smother a groan as he started unbuttoning mine, purposefully letting his fingertips brush lightly over my chest as he did so.

"How's your back?" The marks from the seatbelt were still visible, and it had made him hesitate; what a way to ruin the mood.

"Just fine, come here." Locking my arms around him, I let his lips move against mine, running my fingernails up his back and smiling as he shuddered. God, he was beautiful.

.

.

Carlisle had brushed his teeth four times already this morning. His hands shook so badly that he couldn't even tie his tie, and I replaced his fingers with mine, gently smoothing the collar of his shirt before kissing him softly.

"It'll be fine," I soothed, wanting to run my fingers through his hair but not daring to in case it sent him into some OCD panic. "Calm down, Carlisle."

Groaning, he leaned his head against my shoulder, tightly holding onto my shirt as he hugged me. "I know...I just...I really want this fucking job…"

"Get your ass to that interview then, yeah?" I teased softly.

He nodded but couldn't smile. "I've never had to go to up to head office before...I'm pretty sure they're a bunch of suit-wearing, briefcase-carrying, business people, and I feel like I'm five years old…"

"In that case, you'd better get yourself a suit when they hire you." I captured his lips in mine, rubbing his shoulder to reassure him. "It'll be okay; if it goes badly, we can go to bed and pretend it never happened."

Sighing through his teeth, he nodded. "...I'm never wearing a suit, though."

He'd look damn cute in a suit, but I held my tongue.

.

.

I almost didn't dare to ask because of the look on his face. I wasn't sure whether he was going to cry or vomit, but all that came out in the end was a quiet sigh as he sat down. "How'd it go?" I asked after a few seconds of silence, needing to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

"...They'll be burning my resume right now…" he mumbled, folding his arms on the table top and resting his head on them. "I fucked it all up."

I really couldn't imagine Carlisle fucking anything up that badly, but I didn't bother telling him that. "I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

He glanced up at me, defeated. "All I did was stutter, and I couldn't answer their questions...fuck, Sue is going to be so disappointed in me…"

"Sue isn't your mother," I chuckled, rubbing his shoulder as I sat next to him. "It's not the end of the world."

"I know, but…" He had a lot pinned on it. He wanted to get out of that shop. Out from under the blame for things he didn't do. "God, they'll probably _de_ mote me at the rate I'm going."

"Don't be dramatic," I laughed, giving up and pulling him into my lap. "They can't punish you for getting a little flustered."

"I couldn't even say my name, Gar...and the thing with the shipment is still screwed up, a-and…" The pink flush in his cheeks suggested that he was still a little embarrassed about it, and I did feel bad for him. He sort of looked like he wanted to cry, but was _just_ resisting the pull of it.

I squeezed him tightly; he was genuinely upset about it, and I shouldn't be teasing him. "It'll be alright. Staying in the bookshop isn't the worst thing in the world, is it?"

He shook his head, but bit his lip. "No...but they all know about...they treat me like I'm fragile or as though I'm a little kid, and I love them but I want to get out…" Unbeknown to him, apparently, he did look particularly vulnerable right now, fighting tears and all.

"If it doesn't work out...why don't you apply somewhere else? I mean away from the company?" It would be a giant financial pain in the ass, but it would be worth it if it meant he could settle. My fingertips teased the small of his back, wanting to calm him down before he worked himself up.

"I'm an immigrant, though…"

I frowned, easily forgetting that. I realised he never mentioned citizenship to me, and I'd always assumed that it didn't cause him any problems. Obviously not. "You've been here almost two years though, haven't you?"

"...yeah...but I'm not a US citizen; I can't just _get_ another job...and if this company drops me, I don't want to be sent back to the UK…" He was getting really agitated, forcing himself to take deep breaths to avoid losing his shit.

"That won't happen, Carlisle," I soothed, hugging him against me. "You'll get citizenship if we get married, won't you?" For once, the topic wasn't really a joke.

He laughed anyway, as much as he was able to. "I guess so...that's not very romantic though, is it? Forcing you to marry me so I don't get deported?"

That made me chuckle, and I rubbed his side. "Worth it though, if it would mean I got to keep you."

"I wouldn't do that to you, Gar, don't worry." Kissing me gently, he didn't seem to realise that I didn't see that as a problem at all.


	47. Chapter 47

The soft tinkle of keys against the bench alerted me to Carlisle's presence in the kitchen, and I glanced up at him as I put a tray in the oven. There was already a smile on his face as our eyes locked.

"What?" I chuckled, standing opposite him and leaning back against the counter. The cool edge of the tiles against the small of my back was a nice contrast from the heat of the stove. "You've got good news, then?"

Hesitating for a second, he broke pretty easily. "I gotten a position in head office?" His voice was quiet, and he was a little shy as he shrugged off his jacket. The smile was still there, though.

Instantly, I was grinning, stepping forward to hug him. Leaning down to bring our lips together, I slid my arms around him. "I'm so proud of you. You must not have been as bad as you thought then, hmm? I love you."

"...maybe not? I love you too…" Locking his arms around my neck, he kissed me gently as I lifted him up to sit on the bench. He wrapped his legs around my waist, his fingers in my hair and teasing the back of my neck. "I'm not really that sure what I'm doing up there, to be honest, but one of them likes me, so I'm working with him now. There was a meeting about it today; I get to start tomorrow, and Sue is going to manage the bookshop."

I thought there was something a little odd about him being pulled away from the shop _immediately_ , but whoever it was that picked him must have had a soft spot for him. "As long as you're happy, Carlisle." Rubbing his thighs, I let my lips trail across his jaw, down his throat as he tilted his head back, kissing any exposed skin that I could. "We could go out for dinner to celebrate, if you want?"

He hummed quietly in response, his hands gentle as he smoothed the collar of my shirt down. "I'd be just as happy to eat here," he murmured, watching me carefully.

I caught his hands, threading my fingers through his and pinning his hands against the wall. "Dinner dates are supposed to be cute, aren't they?"

"Not if they stress you out too much?" The next kiss was a lot softer, and he squeezed my fingers.

"I think it'd be okay...I've never eaten in a proper restaurant before, and it seems like a the right occasion to do it?" I admitted, releasing my hold on him and letting him hug me.

"I haven't either...it might be nice, though?" He was smiling again now, and I unconsciously mirrored the gesture.

The loud hiss of the water hitting the hot element interrupted us as the pot boiled over on the stove. "Shit," I cursed, pulling away and rushing to take it off. The oven beeped at the same time, but Carlisle jumped off the bench to deal with it and save the meal inside. "You're a bad influence," I teased, breathing a sigh of relief once everything was under control again.

"Maybe you're just easily distracted," he laughed, rolling his eyes. He got the plates out of the cupboard for me, waiting while I dished up.

"It's not my fault that you can't keep your hands to yourself." I quickly kissed his cheek, grinning as I handed him his food. "Go sit down and eat your dinner."

.

.

I woke up with Carlisle the next morning, watching him from the bed while he got dressed. His movements were a little jerky, and he looked tired. As he sat on the edge of the bed, I slid out from under the blankets, crawling up the mattress to sit beside him. The air was warmer this morning than it had been over the past few months, and it was a welcome surprise to not have cool air nip at my skin. "Excited, or nervous?" I asked, kissing him quickly before he responded.

"Ah...both, I guess?" he mumbled, biting his lip. He started to stand up, but I pulled him back down so that he was sitting between my legs, locking him in a hug. "You're going to make me late, Gar…"

I pressed my lips against his neck. "I'll drive you to work if I have to. Do you want me to make breakfast while you shower, so we can eat together before you go?" It was more for my sake than for his; I'd feel better about him leaving if I knew he had a decent meal in his stomach.

He nodded, trailing his fingertips down his forearms. "That'd be nice."

Letting him go, I wandered into the kitchen, hoping to have finished cooking by the time he got back. I wasn't sure why I was so worried about him this morning, but I didn't feel good about the whole situation. I should have been proud of him, not hampering him in trying to go to work; he tried too hard _not_ to get the new job.

As planned, I had the plates on the table as he came into the kitchen. The smile he shot me was unmistakably anxious, so I knew he was feeling it too.

"You're not going to get too hot, are you?" I asked, eyeing his long sleeves. I was already sweating from the brief stint of warmer weather we were having, though it didn't seem to be affecting him.

"...I don't think so?" Suddenly questioning what he was wearing, he glanced down, fidgeting with the edges of his sleeves. "Do you think I should change-"

I shook my head; I shouldn't have said anything. "Don't worry about it; you're cute as you are."

That wasn't the right wording either; he groaned, sinking in his seat a little bit. "I don't think that's a good thing…"

"You'll be fine, Carlisle." I squeezed his hand across the table, wanting to reassure him; he was definitely more nervous than excited. We ate in silence, but I kept stealing glances at him while I could. There weren't quite so many smiles when he thought I wasn't watching. "Do you want me to drive you?" Once we were finished, I took his plate off him before he could wash it.

"...No, I think the walk might help me calm down a little bit," he admitted, fidgeting again.

Sighing quietly, I nodded, pulling him into a tight hug. "Okay, I love you."

"I love you too," he mumbled against my chest, holding a fistful of my shirt against my shoulder blade as he wrapped his arms around me. "If you start to hurt at work, come home, okay?" His other hand brushed the small of my back.

It was my first day back at work today after the accident, and I couldn't deny I was a little anxious too; sitting down for hours on end in the same position was still quite uncomfortable, but I figured regular trips to the bathroom would give me an excuse to move around. "Yeah, okay…"

"I'll call you at lunch time to see how you are?" He kissed me gently, managing to smile again.

I nodded, blowing out a tight breath as he headed for the front door. Still, he couldn't resist another glance back at me, and I made sure I smiled back. "You'll be okay, Carlisle; they picked you for a reason."

.

.

I snuck back to bed once Carlisle had left. There was still an hour before I needed to leave for work, and I figured that since I'd already had breakfast, I could get ready and out the door within twenty minutes. A forty minute nap was definitely welcome.

Fortunately, sitting at my desk wasn't as painful as I expected, and my manager was semi-pleasant to me all day. Carlisle called me at lunch time, like he had promised, and he sounded a little overwhelmed but happy enough. It made the time to the end of the day pass a bit faster.

It didn't seem to be that long before I had him in my arms again. He'd showered upon getting home, and he was warm and sleepy as he cuddled into me. I slipped my hands under his legs, hauling him into my lap to hug him tightly. The kisses I pressed against his neck and along his jaw produced a quiet hum in his throat, his fingers tangling in my clothing.

"Everything went okay at work?" he asked softly, glancing up to meet my gaze.

"Yeah, everything was fine. Good really; my boss was actually nice to me. What's your new manager like?" The fabric on his t-shirt was soft as I ran my fingers through it, and I fidgeted with the hem of it. I would have liked the shirt even more if it was on the floor, but it was still a little too cold for that.

There was a pause where he hesitated, contemplating his response. "...He's fine, just a little odd," he admitted eventually. "The whole situation is a little odd, I guess." He didn't look worried about it, but I found myself frowning, tipping him backwards in my arms so he had to look at me and smiling when he laughed and grabbed me.

"What'd you mean? Do you not like it there?"

"No, no, it's good there - air conditioning and everything - I just didn't expect to be someone's secretary," he laughed. "...it's nicer than being in the shop…"

"Good." I leaned my head against his shoulder. "So, where are we celebrating, then?"

"Your choice, Gar."

.

.

The food smelt gorgeous before we even made it inside of the restaurant, and instantly my mouth was watering. I stepped a little closer to Carlisle as we made our way into the building, wanting to feel the heat of his body close to mine in hopes it might keep my calm. The ambiance of the place was perfect, and it was lit dimly enough to be romantic, but bright enough that it wasn't a struggle to see.

I caught the look of open jealousy on the waitress's face as Carlisle reached for my hand, and I wrapped my arm around his waist, almost managing to repress a smug smile. _Almost._

"We're not fancy enough to eat here," he whispered to me as she walked us to our table. "They're going to kick us out." Sure enough, the few other people around were dressed up, and our jeans weren't any competition. I couldn't bring myself to care all that much, really.

The only reason we'd been able to come here was because the restaurant was cheaper in the middle of the week, seeming as no one else had any business eating out on a Wednesday night. I'd somewhat had my heart set on the place; the tables were divided by light screens, meaning that each of them was a little more private than in other places, and I hoped it would be more comfortable eating here. Thankfully, Carlisle hadn't called me out on my logic. "We're paying customers," I teased, whispering back to him.

It made him smile, and he bit his lip to keep from laughing. He leaned forward to kiss my cheek, folding his hands in his lap as he sat back. "You look really nice tonight."

I rolled my eyes at him, inwardly flattered. "What're we ordering?"

"Whatever you want?" His fingers were lightly teasing the back of my hand as if he was trying to calm was working; what little nerves I had were dissolving. It gave me a little bit of hope that I might be okay when it came to the dinner during Edward's wedding, as long as I wasn't separated from Carlisle by any great distance.

I planted my elbow on the tabletop, resting my chin against my palm and unable to resist a smile; he looked particularly sweet in the dim lighting. I wanted to kiss every inch of him, but that was hardly appropriate considering the setting. Instead, I just laced our fingers together to hold his hand. "I wish we could have done this when we'd first started dating," I admitted, a little guilty.

"I wouldn't change it for anything," he assured me, squeezing my hand lightly.

I couldn't resist bringing our lips together as the waitress came back over to us, pushing my luck. "Stop being sappy and order your meal, Carlisle," I told him gently, grinning as his face flushed at the sound of his name. Apparently, I wasn't the only one struggling to behave tonight.

He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, effectively messing it up as he tried to focus again. He didn't quite manage to look up at the woman standing by the table. Mumbling something about pasta, he kept his eyes on me, still holding my hand.

I quickly came to the fatal realisation that I hadn't even glanced at the menu after teasing Carlisle, and had no idea what they actually served, so I just repeated his selection, ignoring him laughing. "You were distracting me," I accused light-heartedly, rolling my eyes.

"Problems focusing, Garrett?" he teased, shuffling closer so that my knees touched his under the table.

"Of course not." I trapped one of his legs between mine, locking him in place. I was starting to wonder how much privacy the screens actually gave us, and how much I could get away with before we were in trouble.

Thankfully, our plates came before I got too far.

.

.

"Ready to go home?" I asked, letting my fingertips brush the inner seam of his jeans as I squeezed his thigh. As nice as he looked dressed up, I was pretty sure I was going to have more fun _un_ dressing him once we got back to the house.

He nodded, slipping his fingers through mine as we met in front of the table. I used my thumb to tilt his chin up, stealing a quick kiss and wrapping my arm around his waist. We walked out like that, and he grabbed my hand when I had to let him go to get down the stairs.

The walk home wasn't long, but it was enough time for both of us to get worked up, and although we hadn't had anything alcoholic to drink, my whole body was warm and faintly tingly. Carlisle's cheeks were pink too, and it was too irresistible to stop myself; as we passed the next building, I pinned him against the wall, tangling one hand in his hair while the other cupped the small of his back.

Immediately, his arms were around me, holding fistfuls of my jacket and pulling me closer. His lips met mine, and he shivered as I traced the line of his spine. He pulled out of the kiss too soon, resting his head on my shoulder as I continued to kiss his neck. "Garrett," he murmured breathlessly, trailing his hand up and down my side. "We can't do this here…"

I groaned, releasing him and taking a step back. "You're right, come on." Grabbing his hand, we all but ran home, giddy and laughing.

Carlisle used his key to unlock the door, but I pushed it open before he expected it, sending him tumbling into my arms. I slammed it shut behind us, pulling him over to the couch. His fingers teased the back of my neck as he wrapped his arms around me.

I unbuttoned his shirt and his pants, starting to untangle him from his clothing. I kissed my way down his chest, and he arched his back under me, knotting his fingers in my jacket and trying to pull it off me. His face was still warm, and his breaths were short and uneven. I fucking loved that I could do this to him so fucking easily; he was so gorgeous.

"Fuck, Gar, I'm going to marry you, one day," he burst out suddenly. When I glanced down at him, he smiled up at me, trying to look like he was kidding, but not quite.

Hit with an overwhelming urge for more intimacy, I held his face in my hands, soft as I brought our lips together. "I love you too, Carlisle.


	48. Chapter 48

Alistair was due to come over tonight, in hopes of coaxing Carlisle out to a bar for the first time since everything with his father had happened. My boyfriend was conveniently finishing work early, a little excited to be going out despite his nerves. I wanted to have a little bit of time with him before his friend got here, though, so I was going to pick him up to cut out the time of his walk home. For the last few days, he had been a little 'off', but I put it down to learning to cope with a new job and just wanted to check on him. It was almost time for him to be leaving, so I figured waiting in the lobby wouldn't be breaking any laws.

The official nature of his new office meant that the place wasn't as casual about my presence as the bookshop was, so I'd let a few weeks pass before I dared to visit Carlisle at work. The last thing I wanted was to get him in trouble with his new employer.

My heart fluttered nervously as I parked outside of the building, my stomach, and I offered the guy behind the reception desk an awkward smile as I pushed open the door. It was definitely more formal here; there were people marching about the place like they were on a mission, all business suits and harsh expressions. To rub it in, the air conditioning was set on fucking arctic coolness, making it seem even more uninhabitable and the hair rise on my arms.

I wasn't sure I liked the thought of Carlisle being in a place like this. He might have worked hard to get here, but he seemed too little and sweet to be here; it was far too _grey_ \- and fucking freezing _._ Part of me wished I had stayed in the car, so I didn't have to see it and worry about it.

"Can I help you?" the man asked, looking me up and down.

I folded my arms self-consciously. "Ah, I'm okay...just waiting for my, um, friend." The word was bitter in my mouth, but I didn't want to throw my boyfriend under a bus if he hadn't told them about us.

He just nodded, gesturing to the row of chairs.

I sat, feeling too out of place to do anything else. Folding my hands in my lap, I twiddled my thumbs. The bustle down the hallway made eavesdropping far too tempting, and I eventually managed to zone in on something I could understand. Unfortunately, It wasn't something I ever wanted to hear.

"You'll do whatever I ask, Cullen, you don't get to say 'no'," a deep voice growled, a door slamming a second later.

My nerves bristled, and I swallowed back a wave of anger, already standing. It was a damn good thing that Carlisle literally stumbled into me, stopping me from going down the hallway. I expected him to hug me, like he usually did, but he just snatched the sleeve of my jacket and pulled me toward the door before I could close my arms around him.

"Carlisle-"

"You can't be here," he hissed at me, turning to face me once we were on the sidewalk. His breathing was jagged and uneven, and he was fighting tears.

"What happened?" I ignored that he'd snapped at me, knowing it wasn't really directed at me.

"Let's just go home," he mumbled, walking away before I could touch him.

"Carlisle…" There wasn't much I could do about it, so I just followed him to the car. "Hey…what was that about?"

" _Please_ can we go home?" He looked sick, and I sighed as I started the car.

"What happened? He's not allowed to speak to you like that."

"He can speak to me however he likes; he's the one who got me to come up here." Still looking like he'd burst into tears at the slightest push, he focused on the road, refusing to look at me.

"What's wrong, though?" I pressed, reaching over to place my hand on his leg.

His shoulders became stiff, and his fingers dug into the upholstery of the seat.. "...he wanted me to do something I couldn't, a-and he's upset with me because I won't do it…" he admitted shakily. "Let's just go home?"

I nodded and gave in; there wasn't much point in me arguing with him about it. "Do you want to stop for dinner-"

"Take me home?" he interrupted, pleading again and only becoming more agitated. "Please?"

Sighing, I left it alone completely; I didn't want to fight with him tonight, and that was where this was headed. I didn't bother trying to speak to him as I locked the car and unlocked our apartment, throwing the key down on the bench once I was inside. Stalking into the kitchen to make myself something to eat, seeming as my boyfriend didn't want it, I left him to shut the front door.

He hesitated, leaning back against the wood and folding his arms behind him. "Gar...I'm sorry for snapping at you...it's not your fault, and I didn't mean to take it out on you…" he murmured after watching me for a few seconds. "...sorry…"

I gave up on making food for a moment, winding my arms around his waist. A huge surge of relief that I didn't expect rushed through me as he hugged me back. "Rough day, huh?"

Nodding, he buried his face in my shoulder. "Thanks for coming to get me…"

"That's okay. I feel like I've barely seen you since you moved up there." Squeezing him, I kissed his cheek. One of the conditions of him actually going with Alistair, was that I went too, and spending the night together was going to be wonderful.

He groaned, scrubbing his hand across his face. "Sorry...Do you know what time Allie is coming? How long do we have?" It didn't escape my notice that he was still reluctant to contact his friend himself, and his hesitancy to go seemed to be outweighing his excitement.

"Another hour or so," I promised, starting to frown as his hands tightened around me. "...Do you actually want to go out?"

"Yeah- yeah, I do, I'm just nervous...it's kind of been a while since I've seen everyone, and…" Swallowing hard, he watched our feet. Whatever had happened at work had knocked him quite badly, and I just hoped it wouldn't taint tonight. "You'll still come…?"

Nodding, I pressed more kisses against whatever exposed skin I could reach. "I promised you I would."

.

.

I watched him as he quickly swallowed his medication just before we headed out the door, frowning. "They'll make you tired if you take them," I reminded him.

"Yeah, but...I'll have a panic attack if I don't…" Fidgeting slightly, he was starting to look unsure of himself.

"Not the sleeping pill, though, right?"

He shook his head. "...remind me to take it when we get home?"

"Of course." I kissed him cheek, wrapping my arm around him as we made out way down the stairs.

His hands were shaking as he opened the door of the taxi, but he was smiling again as Alistair pulled him into a tight, crushing hug. Randal offer us a friendly smile from the front passenger's seat.

We ordered a round of drinks while we waited for the others, and I sat in an awkward silence with Randal while Alistair and Carlisle were somewhat absorbed in each other, seemingly forgetting that we were here as well. My boyfriend was still touching my leg under the table, though, fidgeting with my jeans. I didn't really care that much if he wasn't focused on me; it was just nice to have Carlisle talking again.

It wasn't until the rest of the group came over to us that Carlisle abruptly grabbed my hand, in a panic. Giving his fingers a light squeeze, I tried to reassure him again. He shuffled a little closer to me as everyone rearranged so we could all sit at the same table – quite a tight squeeze – and I could see him start to worry as why he'd been MIA for the last few months was immediately brought up.

Thankfully, Alistair noticed this too, and jammed himself next to us so that Carlisle wasn't trapped between anyone else. "We've got you back now, that's all that matters, right?" he laughed, trying to get off the subject when he couldn't respond.

It seemed to satisfy them; they were more worried about beer than anything else. Breathing a sigh of relief, Carlisle relaxed a little, taking a careful sip of his drink and resting his head against my shoulder. I wrapped my arm around his waist and rubbed his side. "You okay?" I asked him quietly, hoping he wouldn't freak out.

He nodded and kissed my neck. "I'm okay."

"Tired already, Carlisle?" Alistair teased him. His smile was slightly concerned though, and he reached down to touch his hand.

"I'm alright," he repeated, laughing a little now. "You two are mothering me."

"Yeah, well, you look like you're going to fall asleep and it's barely ten o'clock." He nudged him in the ribs so he jumped into me, amused.

We downed a few more shots, until my head was pleasantly fuzzy. Full of liquid courage, Alistair abruptly grabbed Carlisle's hand, pulling him to his feet. "We're dancing," he announced.

My boyfriend immediately backpedalled. "No- I can't, Allie, I-"

"Shush. You're dancing with me." He was already all but dragging him into the crowded dance floor, beginning to blend into the writhing mass of bodies. Randel and I were forced to watch on as he unapologetically grinded against him. Carlisle looked bewildered, struggling to keep up with what was happening as his friend moved against him but glancing around for escape. The thumping bass meant that I couldn't hear what they were saying to each other, and I exchanged an awkward smile with Randal once we realised we were alone.

"You don't want to go too, do you?" he asked me, pulling a face.

"No way," I laughed, shaking my head. Not with him, anyway; it could be a different story if I could get my hands on my boyfriend.

"Thank god. Carlisle can be our sacrifice."

"It'll do him good to have some fun; he needs this." A smile was impossible to hide as my boyfriend's resolve broke and he laughed, letting Alistair do what he pleased with him. As uncoordinated as he claimed to be, he moved well with a little guidance, and they did look good together.

"I'm just glad it's not me," he chuckled.

"Yep." I couldn't deny that I wasn't at least a _little_ bit jealous, seeing Alistair's hands all over my boy. Sitting with Randal was nice, though; we were both a little on the outside of the group, and had a surprising amount in common once we got talking; it was just nice to be included in something.

.

.

Eventually, Carlisle broke free, stumbling into me as the alcohol made him unsteady. It set us both off laughing, and I leaned down to kiss him. "Alistair is quite the dancer," I teased him.

He groaned, a light flush in his cheeks as he realised that we'd watched the whole thing. "Please, don't feed his ego." It didn't stop him from laughing, though.

"It's nice to see you smiling again." I pulled him closer, resting my chin on the top of his head as he leaned against me. "You're tired, though, aren't you?"

"I'll live; I haven't seen them in ages, I can't run away now," he pointed out.

I nodded; there probably would be a fuss if I tried to take him home just yet. Wanting to keep him on his feet a little longer, I pulled him back toward the mass of people.

"No- Garrett, I don't dance- you know that, what are you doing? Garrett!" His protest was drowned out by the bass of the music, and he was laughing too much for it to be serious.

"You're fine," I teased, holding his waist to get him closer to me. He wrapped his arms around my neck, standing on his toes to kiss me. I let my lips move against his, fidgeting with his clothing until I could get my fingers against his skin. With the way we were going, we were fast approaching the point where what we were doing could be considered foreplay as opposed to dancing, but I didn't care. "God, you're gorgeous…"

He kissed my neck, his teeth nicking my skin as he tangled one hand in my hair, the other grabbing a fistful of my shirt between my shoulder blades. "I love you."

"I love you too." Brushing my lips over his, I deepened the kiss, pulling him closer and closer until we were violently jolted apart by the other dancers. I felt my face get hot; what we were doing wasn't exactly appropriate – not that we were the only ones doing it – and I was fast reaching the point where I needed him home in the privacy of our own bedroom, not surrounded by people. I took a breath to steady myself and stepped back. "I'm going to get another drink, do you want one?"

He nodded, following me to the bar and locking our fingers together. Although he swallowed the shot quickly, he looked a little nauseous. He was wobbly on his feet as well, and I suspected that the last drink really hadn't been a good idea.

We sat at the bar for a bit, and I waited for Carlisle to feel a little more steady; I didn't usually like dancing, but I was tipsy enough that it was a bit of fun. After a while, he pushed himself up off the stool, leaning against the countertop as he faced me. He mumbled something about going to the bathroom and sort of stumbled away.

.

.


	49. Chapter 49

"Garrett!"

I could barely hear my name over the loud music, turning around to find a very anxious-looking Randal. Frowning, I squeezed between everyone until I could reach the edge of the room where he was standing, having to strain to hear what he was saying. "Are you okay? Where's Alistair?"

He shook his head. "Your boy isn't good; I think he needs to go home." Grabbing my wrist, he tugged me toward the bathroom doors.

My head was fuzzy from the alcohol, but I stumbled in anyway, trying to figure out what was going on. It was quieter in here, at least, though the bass was still thumping through the door. "What?"

"Carlisle's sick," Alistair called out to me before Randal could answer.

Catching sight of my boyfriend sitting on the bathroom floor, resting his head against his knees, sobered me up a bit. "Is he hurt? Carlisle, hey…" I knelt in front of him, squeezing his shoulder until he glanced up at me. "Are you okay?"

Unfocused, he shook his head 'no', reaching to grab my hand but missing by about an inch.

Chuckling and realising he was completely trashed, I closed my fingers around his. "Let's get you home before we get kicked out," I told him, pulling him to his feet. He was unsteady and swayed in my arms as I held onto him. Saying goodbye to the others, I practically dragged him out, getting a little annoyed at how slowly he wanted to walk. He had done this to himself, after all.

Standing on the road to wait for a taxi, he sat on the edge of the curb, leaning against my legs as I stood behind him. He started to vomit out of nowhere, coughing up a lot of what he'd previously had to drink.

"For god's sake, Carlisle, what'd you do to yourself?" I was half grumbling, half laughing at him at this point; I'd never expected him to get to this level of drunk before and it kind of pissed me off that he'd decided to ruin any chance of a good night by drinking too much. I couldn't be too mad at him, though; it was probably anxiety driven.

Eventually, the taxi came, and I made him promise not to puke in the car, to which he nodded without understanding. We'd just have to take our chances.

"…don't feel good…" he whispered to me about halfway home, biting his lip. His fingers tightened exponentially around mine, and his cheeks flushed a light shade of pink.

Realising he was going to throw up, I quickly asked the driver to pull over. Carlisle was too out of it to open the door or unbuckle his seatbelt, and he had to wait until I'd done it for him to get free. He was immediately sick into the gutter, and I offered the driver a sorry smile in the mirror as we waited for him to get a grip again.

Thankfully, we didn't have to pull over a second time before getting home, but I was wary of him as we stood in the elevator again. He was leaning against the wall, bracing himself against the bar, and I had my arm behind him in case he slipped.

"Straight in bed," I instructed as I unlocked the door. I was fairly confident that if he sat down anywhere he would go to sleep and I wouldn't be able to get him down the hallway.

I brought him a sleeping pill, nudging him awake to take it; I couldn't be bothered dealing with him if he woke up again. He needed to sleep through the night. It was like having a fucking child.

He fell asleep again as soon as I left him alone, and I got in bed as well. I was a little bitter about the whole thing, and that would only get worse if I stayed up and drank by myself. I really didn't fancy us fighting when we were both hungover in the morning.

.

.

I only got a few hours of peace before Carlisle was up again. He had to keep hold of the wall to stop himself tripping over, until he made it to the bathroom. I heard him throw up, but couldn't be bothered going to his rescue; I was over the whole situation.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next time I looked at my clock, it was just after two AM. Glancing sideways, I frowned as I found that my boyfriend wasn't next to me; I didn't recall him coming back , either, and he was too clumsy to have done it without waking me up. I groaned and rolled out of bed – I couldn't call myself a decent human without making sure that he hadn't fallen over and decapitated himself.

It wasn't far from the truth, really. Kneeling on the bathroom floor, he was struggling to stay conscious enough to stay leaning over the toilet bowl without falling. He kept slipping sideways, eventually falling into the wall and knocking his head against it before I could stop him.

"Jesus." Leaning over him, I unfolded his legs from under him, making him sit up straight. He coughed, almost gagging but managing to keep his stomach contents down, thank god. His lips were faintly blue, and he was freezing to touch.

"…Gar…sick…" he mumbled, struggling not to fall asleep. He seemed to be choking on shallow breaths, and was very, very pale. It was no fucking wonder he was lightheaded.

"You need to breathe, Carlisle, take a deep breath."

"…don't feel good…" His words were so slurred together he was hard to understand, and he slid down to lie on the floor, too tired to do anything anymore. It took all of two seconds for him fall asleep.

I sighed and shook his shoulder, wanting him to wake up. Something wasn't right, and I wasn't sure that 'sleeping it off' was such a good idea right now. "Sit up." Moving him was pointless; he was compliant, but wouldn't hold the position once I got him up. "For fuck's sake, Carlisle."

.

.

In alcohol induced confusion, I ran a google search of his symptoms, finding nothing other than the usual 'will die immediately' diseases. It didn't help me try and figure out what to do with Carlisle, though.

I glanced down at him again; he hadn't moved, other than curling up a little more. He coughed, breliefly regaining consciousness, and although he managed to keep whatever was in his stomach down, I knew he wanted to be sick again. I was lost for what to do, crouching again to hold my hand against his forehead. He was getting colder as well, which wasn't good.

I was pretty sure that he needed a doctor, but I sure as hell couldn't drive anywhere, and an ambulance seemed like an over-reaction. Grumbling about needing to go out again, I shook him awake the best I could. "Carlisle, you need to get dressed."

He looked at me blankly as I tossed his jeans at him, not making the connection.

"Get dressed," I instructed again, trying not to get snappy with him. This was getting tiring very quickly. When my words had no effect on him, I forced him into it, and it was worse than trying to convince Kate to get dressed.

My frustration was almost overwhelming, and I threw his hoodie at him, storming out of the room to calm down for a minute. I didn't think I'd end up caring for an uncooperative child when we went out for a good time tonight. Now I was just really mad at him. Still, my anger subsided a little bit as I heard him throw up again; yes, he had done part of this to himself, but something else wasn't right as well.

He'd tried to wriggle his arms into the sleeves of his jumper by the time I went back to him, glancing up a me. "...I'm sorry..."

"I know," I sighed. "I'm taking you to a doctor, can you stand up?" Pulling the fabric over his head, I crouched in front of him. I wrapped my arms around his waist as he shakily got to his feet, and I was pretty sure I was the only thing stopping him from falling. Somehow, I managed to get him out of the apartment complex and onto the road before he really needed to sit down again.

This time, I didn't care if he was sick in the taxi; we could deal with the clean-up fee later, he just needed help. He leaned against me once we were sitting down again, freezing cold and far too pale.

"Don't go to sleep, Carlisle," I murmured to him, shifting my fingers through his hair. "You need to stay awake."

Groaning quietly, he ran his hand over his face, rubbing his eyes to try and wake himself up. "...where are we going…?" he mumbled, barely making sense.

"To hospital; we need to make sure you're okay." Hugging him seemed like a bad idea, and I tried to ignore the urge; it would only make him more sleepy. There wasn't much I could do as I watched the colour continue to seep from his cheeks. As we pulled up outside the emergency room, I made the mistake of reaching over, freeing him from his seatbelt and shoving open his door before I got out.

He wasn't thinking straight, and didn't wait for me to help him get up. Immediately, he tripped over the curb, falling onto his hands and knees.

"Fuck, are you okay?" Standing too quickly made my own head spin, and I stumbled a little as I crouched in front of him. There was blood on his hands as he sat back, and this time I couldn't resist, wrapping my arms around him. "Let's get you inside."

.

.

Carlisle was too out of it to respond to any of the questions that the nurses asked him, leaning against me and barely able to stay awake. My head was so foggy I was struggling to recall his birthday, what we'd been doing tonight and what he had swallowed. Frowning, I started to wonder if he'd taken his pills twice; I knew I'd given him one, but I couldn't remember if I'd made him take the other one as well.

As soon as I mentioned this to them and the fact that he'd had a bit to drink, they had us rushed through the double doors. It scared the shit out of me, but it did prevent us from having to wait for hours in the waiting room.

My head was spinning from the bright lights and constant movement around us, and I was quickly becoming aware of just how much _I'd_ had to drink. The seriousness of everyone's voices made me want to cry, I reached for Carlisle's hand to find some form of comfort.

"He hasn't over-dosed," I argued hotly when they suggested it. "Not intentionally…"

He wasn't listening anyway, and clearly didn't know what was going on. They just somewhat pushed me out of the way, trying to get him to answers a barrage of questions that he couldn't because he was so sleepy.

My stomach rose as soon as I caught sight of the lure they wanted in his arm, and I tried not to vomit as they slid the needle under his skin. Carlisle didn't even seem to know they were doing it, but my legs felt wobbly under me. Thank god, he wasn't conscious enough to be in pain. Stupidly, I just wanted to talk to mum, wanting reassurance more than anything. Twenty seven, and still running into her arms as soon as something went wrong. Great.

The nurse touched my shoulder, getting me to look up at her. "Come and sit in the waiting room, I'll get you once all this is over. We don't need you passing out as well," she murmured softly, ushering me out of the room again. "He'll be alright. Make sure that you keep drinking as well, it'll help your hangover." Chuckling to herself, she handed me a paper cup, rolling her eyes at my guilty expression. This really wasn't helping the 'wanting my mother' thing.

I gave in as she walked away; it felt like my whole world was collapsing, and the alcohol was making everything far more dramatic than it needed to be. My fingers wouldn't stop shaking enough to cooperate as I tried to operate my phone, and I felt like I might puke as I waited for her to pick up.

She was groggy as she answered, confused. "Garrett, what's wrong? It's three AM, love."

I felt a little bad for waking her up, but hearing her voice helped to ease the lump in my throat. "M-mum...Carlisle's in hospital…" Somehow, I managed not to burst into tears, but it was coming.

"Is he alright? What happened?" She was more awake now.

"W-we went out, and we had too much to drink and they think he overdosed but he didn't-" I really was going to fucking cry. I swallowed a mouthful of water out of the cup, trying to fight the tightness in my throat. It didn't really work, and she saw straight through me.

"Are you drunk?" she asked bluntly, almost muttering to herself.

" _Yes,_ but Carlisle's sick, and he's so cold...I don't know what to do…"

"Oh, honey. It'll be okay, he's in the best place for him."

"...you know that's what you told me and Eleazar when we had to put the dog down," I grumbled through tears, the ancient memory hurting more than it should.

"I guess so," she chuckled. The joke was over in a few seconds, and she sighed. "He'll be alright, Garrett. Do you want me to drive up and sit with you for a while?"

I really, _really_ wanted that, but it was unfair on her. So was calling her at ridiculous hours of the morning. "...it's a long way, mum." It was almost a plea for her to come, but I was trying to force myself to calm down and stop being a child. An intoxicated, nonsensical child.

"I know, I'll be there as soon as I can," she promised.

.

.

Carlisle was fairly coherent by the time I was allowed to come back into the room, but he still didn't look good. He tried to smile when he saw me, but it didn't stick at all.

"Are you alright?" I didn't know whether I was allowed to touch him or not; I didn't want to cause him more discomfort than he already had. It was taking everything I had not to look at the IV in his arm, but I knew I'd end up on the floor if I did.

His face was hot, and I knew he was embarrassed about being so violently ill in public, still holding a plastic container the nurse had given him incase he threw up like it was a life line. Just from the way he was sitting, I knew he was in pain. I jerked the curtain closed around the cubicle, rubbing the back of his hand as he squeezed the bed. "Y-you can go, Gar..."

I shook my head at him, uncurling his fingers so he would hold onto me and not the sheets. There was already blood on the bedding and his clothing, presumably from the grazes on his hands. "I'll stay until they either admit you for the night or send you home."

He immediately grabbed me, although I was pretty sure it was involuntary and he just needed to hold onto something to take his mind off his stomach hurting. Curling up didn't seem to be helping much, but he shuffled up the bed to rest his head on his knees anyway.

"Are you going to be sick again?" I asked carefully, tracing circles with my fingertips against the small of his back. "Do you need a nurse?"

"No," he pleaded, shaking his head. "I'm fine, I just..." He was sick, but I didn't hit the buzzer, just waited until it was over before handing him another container. There was no point in doing it if it was only going to stress him out more.

"Slow down," I reminded him as he struggled to catch his breath. Hyperventilating was only going to make him feel more terrible than he already did. As selfish as it was, standing up was making me dizzy, and I sat in the chair next to the bed once he'd calmed down a little bit. It didn't take him long, really; he was still quite sedated.

My head was throbbing as my hangover set in, and I was squinting my eyes against the harsh white lighting. Good lord, I felt like shit. I didn't want to go home, though; not until I knew that Carlisle was safe. Not wanting to hold my head up anymore, I leaned forward against the bed, folding one arm in front of me as a makeshift pillow. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the sounds of the nurses in the corridors and the beeping of monitors.

Carlisle slid his hand up my arm, lightly teasing the back of my neck as I tried not to fall asleep, playing with my hair and generally making it harder to stay awake. "Go home, Garrett, you need to go to bed," he murmured softly.

I shook my head, propping myself up on my elbows to rub my eyes. It felt like fucking sandpaper. "I'm not going anywhere until I know you're okay; I'm the one that gave you the pill in the first place." The guilt, coupled with my handover, was quickly making me nauseous, and my mouth was welling with spit and the need to throw up. I groaned without meaning to.

"I'll be fine now; just get some rest." He squeezed my shoulder, but his hold on me was still weak.

"I'm alright, Carlisle," I argued tiredly. He really was going to make me fall asleep, though, if he kept touching me.

"Come here, then." He shuffled over to the side of the mattress, trying to untangle himself from the IV and monitors.

Making sense that he wanted me beside him, I clumsily got up, perching next to him and slipping my arms around his waist to pull us closer together so that neither of us fell. He moulded himself to the shape of my body, resting his head on my chest as he curled up next to me. I folded one arm back over my face to block out the light, the other resting around Carlisle's shoulders. It helped to keep me calm; I could feel every breath he took while we were like this, and what little warmth he'd managed to get back was soaking into my body. There was no way in hell I was going to be able to stay awake now.

He kissed my neck, lightly trailing his fingers up and down my side. It was nice to have my hands on him again, and I was glad to keep the proximity we had with each other. I rested my chin on the top of his head, leaning back against the mattress.

It was then that a nurse threw back the curtain, not batting an eye at the position we were in."You can't drink and take your medication, Carlisle. Your doctor should have told you that when she gave it to you." Upon not getting much of a reaction from him, she addressed me instead, assuming he wouldn't retain anything at the moment as she explained that the reaction of the pills and the alcohol together was essentially an overdose, seeming the effects of both things complemented together.

I tried not to snap at her, feeling like she was _blaming_ him for what had happened. Still, I managed to hold my tongue until she was gone again. "I'm so sorry I gave you that pill…I should have checked, and I thought that you'd just had too much to drink," I mumbled, squeezing him a little tighter. "I just wanted you to sleep properly, but…"

"It's okay, Garrett, it's not your fault," he assured me, hugging me as much as he was able to and more coherent than the nurse had given him credit for. "I should have thought about it before we went out…I do wish you would go home, though…"

I shook my head, refusing again. "You scared the shit out of me, I'm not going anywhere." Giving in to my need to go to sleep, I pulled him closer to me, resting my cheek on the top of his head and letting my eyes fall closed. "Love you."


	50. Chapter 50

The next time I woke up, my arms were empty. I panicked immediately, sitting up far too fast and then having to lean forward and brace myself against my knees to stop myself either vomiting, or falling off the bed. Hangovers fucking sucked.

"Your boy did tell me you had had a bit to drink."

My head snapped up to look at my mother, and I would have rolled my eyes if I wasn't convinced that it'd bring on a world of pain. "How long have you been here?"

She looked at her watch. "Two hours, roundabouts. Enough time for Carlisle and I to have a good chat."

I groaned; I didn't think that was something I wanted, as much as I liked them getting along. "Where is he? Is he okay?"

"He's functioning better than you are," she chuckled. "He's just gone to the bathroom; don't panic."

As relief washed over me, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat in the chair beside mum, hugging her in apology. "…thank you for coming…"

"That's okay, love. It's a relief to know that Carlisle is alright. I was here when the nurse came around before, and he's doing a lot better, by the sound of it. Just be careful with him; I think he's still a bit dizzy."

I waited impatiently for him to come back, standing immediately once he was in sight. He stumbled into my arms, and I hugged him tightly, kissing his forehead. For lack of a better term, he looked like absolute shit. "You don't look good..."

"...Thanks, Gar…" Walking around obviously hadn't been a good idea, and I made him sit on the bed before he fell. Still quite pale, I didn't really believe him, and he still didn't look well at all. "…I get to go home today…I think…" he mumbled, his voice muffled by my shoulder. There were clear nerves in his tone, but I couldn't pick what was wrong.

"What are you worried about? Do you not feel well enough to go?" I asked carefully, rubbing his back.

"…I'll be okay…I just feel a bit sick…" he admitted, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. "The drive…I'm scared that I'll…"

"If you get carsick, we can pull over," I assured him, tracing circles against the small of his back with my thumb.

"I'll drive you two home, and I'll go easy on you, sweetheart," mum murmured, touching his arm.

Her reassurance dropped the tension from his shoulders, and he relaxed into me.

.

.

As soon as they cleared him to eat, I wandered over to the cafeterrior to get a bottle of lemonade, hoping that the sweet liquid might help to perk him up a bit. The doctors were reluctant to give him any pain-killers, but he essentially had the world's worst hangover, and was clearly hurting. He'd fallen asleep by the time I got back, thank god, and I didn't wake him up. Instead, I just sat next to my mother again, holding his hand on the bed. His fingers were limp and cold in mine, but I felt more secure when I was touching him.

"He'll be alright," mum murmured, seeing me watching him.

"He scared the shit out of me...god, if I'd had any more to drink than I did, and hadn't been able to take him to the hospital…" My head was spinning; that was not at all how last night was supposed to go. I watched him carefully as he started to shift, increasing the pressure on his fingers.

"But you got him here. He might not be feeling good for a few days, but he'll be okay. You can't be beating yourself up over this, Garrett, it's not your fault." We were keeping our voices down, but he was still disturbed by the noise.

Beginning to fidget with the sheet on the bed, he was starting to hyperventilate again, wincing and struggling to combat the varying amounts of pain he was in. He was awake suddenly, gagging into the container that he was still managing to hold onto, but having nothing left to bring up.

I stood up, rubbing his back as he leaned forward and tried to catch his breath. The violent motion pulled the IV in his arm, and I gently corrected the position of his wrist to stop it, rubbing his fingers. "You alright?" I asked softly him, running my hand through his hair to get it off his face as it stuck to him.

He nodded miserably, leaning into me as he shivered. "...still in hospital?" he asked dizzily, glancing around but too out of it to figure it out.

"Yeah, you're still in hospital. Will you have something to drink?" Once he agreed, I poured some lemonade into a paper cup, passing it to him. Unfortunately, I hadn't realised that the liquid was too cold, and his trembling worsened immediately . I stripped off my jacket and wrapped it around him, rubbing his shoulders as I sat beside him. His thank-you hurt a bit; this was all my fucking fault anyway.

.

.

Mum drove us home once he was discharged, and I was hyper aware of Carlisle not feeling well. His fingers were so tight around mine that I'd lost sensation, and it didn't escape my notice when he swallowed thickly. I could imagine that if I felt this shitty with a hangover, he must have felt a thousand times worse. He was very dizzy as we got out of the car, leaning against me in the elevator as I hugged him against my side.

"You okay, honey?" mum asked him wearily, watching him as he was unsteady on his feet.

He nodded, tightening the hands around my shirt as we jolted to a stop. "...yeah...need to sit down..." Getting him to make it down the hallway seemed like a long shot, so I sat him on the couch. He collapsed immediately, and I shoved a pillow under his head just before he got comfortable. It didn't really matter; he was almost asleep anyway. Going to the bedroom, I grabbed a blanket, collecting a bucket from the laundry cupboard as well - I didn't trust him not to be sick again.

I wrapped the blanket around him as I crouched next to him, gently running my fingers through his hair as it disturbed him a little. "You're at home now; it's just me," I assured him as he glanced up at me, clearly disoriented and anxious.

"Get him to have a light meal when he wakes up; it might stop his stomach from eating itself inside out," mum murmured, watching us.

I was glad she had stayed; I wanted to cry out of frustration. "This is all my fault..." Fighting back tears, I rubbed his arm through the fabric, wanting him in my lap but not wanting to wake him up.

She squeezed my shoulder. "He'll be alright, Garrett. You did the right thing by taking him to the hospital."

"I could have killed him by giving him that pill."

She looked tired when I glanced up at her, and I felt bad for dragging her out of bed.

"It's okay if you want to go home..."

Thinking about it for a moment, she nodded. "Alright, call me later and tell me how he is. And make sure he's drinking water when he wakes up."

"Thank you for coming." I forced a smile, but an impending breakdown was looming.

"Give me a hug, Garrett," she instructed, wrapping her arms around me when I stood up. "It'll be alright; just keep an eye on him. Both of you need a good night's sleep."

I managed to hold it together until she was gone, but the tears overflowed as she closed the door. The quiet bang of wood against wood made Carlisle stir a little bit. Unable to speak past the lump in my throat, I sat beside him on the floor, resting my head against his shoulder and slipping my arms around him.

"Are you okay?" he asked sleepily, his words sort of slurred together. He ran his fingers through my hair, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Just worried," I admitted shakily, squeezing him gently. "Do you want to go to bed?"

He nodded, carefully sitting up. "I'm really dizzy...don't let me go?" he pleaded, slipping his arms around me as I sat back.

"I won't let you fall, Carlisle." As I stood up, I made sure to hold him carefully, wrapping my arm around his waist. "Can you drink?" I asked once he was lying down again.

The couple of mouthfuls of water he forced downed seemed like an immense effort, and his hands shook so badly he was at risk of spilling it everywhere. There wasn't any point in wanting him to change his clothes; it would only hurt him, and he was already exhausted.

I fell into bed beside him, shifting close to him and rubbing his arm. "Can I hug you? I'll be careful," I promised, wanting the reassurance of having him in my arms.

He shuffled back into me, seemingly relieved to be held as I kept him against my chest. He was still freezing, and I hoped being under the blankets with my body heat might make him feel a little better. "...thank you..."

"Get some sleep." I squeezed him gently, being careful not to press on his stomach. "And wake me up if you need to, okay?"

Folding his arms over top of mine, he nodded, already mostly unconscious.

.

.

It was late afternoon by the time I woke up, and Carlisle was still curled up next to me. There was a glass of water on the bedside table, indicating he'd been up at some point, but now he just looked uncomfortable, even asleep.

I rolled out of bed, getting up to go to the bathroom, and by the time I came back, he was awake again. "Hey...how are you feeling?" I asked anxiously, sitting on the edge of the bed to rub his arm.

Despite offering a tired smile, he didn't look well. "...sleepy...?"

"I bet." Although I was pleased to have him talking, my smile quickly faded; he _really_ didn't look good. My eyes landed on the box of pills on the bedside table - low grade pain killers, which he wasn't supposed to have. I picked it up, shaking it gently to catch his attention. "You can't take these, Carlisle, remember?"

He winced at the sound. "...head really hurts..." he mumbled in explanation, guilty. He wasn't thinking straight, I knew that, and I fought not to scold him for it.

"You're not allowed to take anything like this for a few days; the doctors said it wasn't safe."

Just nodding, he was anxious, fidgeting with the edge of the sheet. "...forgot…"

"Tell me if you feel worse," I murmured, shifting him to lie on me. With a sigh, I lay back against the pillows, folding my arm over my face and running my free hand through his hair.

While he was under the blankets, he couldn't really cuddle into me like he wanted to, but was too tired to free himself. Instead, he just half-heartedly wrapped his arms around me.

We couldn't stay like this, neither of us were comfortable. I sat up and shifted away enough to pull the sheets down, climbing back into bed. "Come here," I murmured as I leaned back against the headboard and pulled him into my lap. Once he had settled again, I wrapped the blankets around him. The only thing I could do was hope that he could just sleep it off.

.

.

I knew I was essentially babying him, and that he was partly hating it, but at this point I was too scared not to. He couldn't stomach anything, shook continually, could barely move, and had the world's worst migraine.

For dinner, I tried to make something that wouldn't be painful if it came back up again, settling on soup and hoping he could keep it down.. I shoved my food down my throat as fast as I could, ditching my plate in the sink and then moving to fill a bowl for Carlisle.

"Do you think you might be able to eat something?" I asked, sitting on the bed next to him with the dinner.

"...Isn't it supposed to be breakfast in bed?" he asked softly, trying to tease me, but too pale and shaky.

"I guess it is, normally, but you're not going anywhere." Even sitting up seemed like quite a task, and what little colour was there left seeped from his cheeks. "You're still dizzy?"

"Y-yeah...Gar...I don't think I can eat that…" he admitted. "...sorry…"

I set the bowl on the bedside table and sat next to him, hugging him loosely and kissing his cheek. "It's okay, but you still need to have something."

He was shrinking away from the sound of my voice, it being too loud and hurting his head. "...I'll be sick…"

Frowning, I squeezed his fingers. "Do you need to go back to the doctors?"

"...wanna go back to sleep…"

"I know, Carlisle, you can. I'm just worried." I kissed him again, wrapping the blankets tighter around him. He wrapped his arms around my neck as I leaned over, pulling me into him with what little strength he has left. "You want me to stay with you for a while?" I lay down before he responded, keeping my arms around him.

He tangled his fingers in my shirt, kissing my neck. "...love you...sorry I'm a pain in the ass…"

"You're not a pain, Carlisle, you're sick," I chuckled under my breath, smiling when our eyes met. "If you get worse, you need to tell me, though."

"Y-yeah, okay…" he agreed, swallowing thickly. His knuckles were white from squeezing the fabric in his hands so tightly, gritting his teeth to smother the waves of nausea.

With a quiet groan, he leaned his head against my chest. I rubbed the back of his hand, avoiding the grazes from his tumble out of the cab earlier. "Are you alright?" I asked warily.

"...really not feeling good…" he admitted after a moment of deciding whether to tell me the truth.

I carefully pulled him into my lap, getting him to lie down against me. The coolness of my palm against his forehead seemed to help ease his headache, and I rubbed his shoulder with my free hand. There was no fever, but I didn't have any doubt that he was feeling absolutely terrible, and it didn't help that he wasn't allowed to take anything for it. "Are you going to be sick?"

"...I hope not…" Cuddling against me, he winced as his stomach cramped, drawing his knees up against his abdomen. From what I gathered, he was going through withdrawals, so it was no wonder he was so sick.

Running my fingers through his hair, I marvelled at how soft it was. I watched his face carefully, seeing all kinds of discomfort and the colour come and go in his cheeks with the pain.

"...how are _you_ feeling?" he asked softly, absentmindedly pulling the waistband of his pants away from his stomach. Apparently it didn't help to shift the pressure, because he continued to shift and to try and make it stop. The movement eventually became too exhausting, and he sank back into me, accepting that it was going to hurt.

"I'm fine, Carlisle, just tired," I assured him, undoing the button on his jeans and slipping my fingers under where it was squeezing him. It seemed to help a bit, because he relaxed ever so slightly. He still looked like he wanted to cry, though, and I was hoping like hell we weren't going to end up in the ER again tonight. "Is everything okay?" I asked softly. Aside from being physically ill, I knew that he was feeling pretty down after everything that had happened, and it really wasn't fair.

"I-I…everything was going so well, and then this happened, and your mother had to come because I created such a fuss, and…"

" _I_ called my mother because I wanted the support, not because you caused a 'fuss'." Squeezing his fingers, I rubbed my thumb across the back of his hand. "It's not your fault, Carlisle."

"But it is! Realistically, the doctor probably did tell me not to take those pills and drink, but I didn't listen because I didn't want to take them in the first place..."

"It isn't your fault," I repeated, shaking my head.

"Of course it is, who else's fault would it be? It sure as hell wasn't yours…"

"Don't, Carlisle, please," I pleaded, fighting the lump in my throat.

"I stressed you out, and-"

"And it's okay. Everyone is just glad that you're alright." The shaky smile he offered me made my heart hurt, and I felt terrible for him; this _really_ wasn't fair.

"Does...did you tell Alistair what happened?" he asked softly, his fingers picking at the seams of the blanket.

I shook my head. "No, I never said anything to him about what happened. I didn't think you would want me to."

"Thank you...he didn't need to worry over nothing. Did your mum get home okay? It was early when she left?"

"She's fine," I assured him. With a sigh, I shifted under him, pulling my legs out from under him so that I could lie back. He sat up without me having to prompt him, quickly cuddling into me as soon as I had settled again. "...And he wouldn't have been worrying about 'nothing', he would have been worried about _you._ "

"...same difference…"


	51. Chapter 51

**As usual, sorry for the typos, I cringe every time I post something and then find them a few weeks later.**

.

.

It was weird being with my family without my boyfriend. Although he'd planned on coming with me, he'd bailed last minute after deciding that he still felt too ill to travel the long distance. I didn't blame him at all, but it still felt odd.

"No Carlisle?" Dad asked as he opened the door.

I was secretly smug that the expression on his face was one of disappointment, rather than joy; it seemed he had finally warmed to him. "No, he wasn't feeling the best when I left," I explained, not wanting to tell him too much.

"That's a shame." His lips thinned into a line as he thought about it, and he slowly shook his head. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's getting there."

"Do you think he'll want to come camping with us in the summer? Eleazar and his family are coming down to the lake with me and your mother, where I used to take you boys when you were children; you and Carlisle could come too." He hadn't let me in the front door yet, and his eyes scanned my face, searching for...approval?

"Uh, I don't know where he stands on camping, but I'm sure the gesture would mean a lot to him?" I told him, trying to edge my way into the house. Oddly enough, I felt awkward without him by my side, and I was only just beginning to realise how attached to each other we'd become. As for camping, I was pretty sure that there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that Carlisle had done it before, considering his upbringing and delayed escape from his hometown.

My mother hugged me as I finally made it into the kitchen. "Lunch is almost ready. Your brother isn't coming anymore, so it'll just be us. Did Carlisle not come with you this morning either?"

Repressing a sigh, I quickly repeated the conversation I'd just had with dad, but her frown only grew.

"He's getting better after his runin last weekend? If he's still isn't well, he needs to go back to the doctor-"

I cut her off half way. "He's okay, mum, just tired, I think. He didn't take any time off work this week after he was sick." He _should_ have taken time off work - you don't spend Saturday in the hospital and Sunday almost comatose, only to begin work again on Monday. Still, he was more worried about upsetting his boss than his own wellbeing, and there wasn't anything I could do about it.

Her lips pressed out into a thin line as she thought about it. She had spoken to him on the phone a few times over the past week, trying to check on him in between his countless apologies to her for ruining her weekend. "He's a worry."

I wasn't fighting with that; he really was.

.

.

I stayed with my parents until just on dusk, but thought I'd better go home to make sure Carlisle ate before he went to bed. That, and I wanted to see him before he fell asleep. Mum packed two meals into my car before I could stop her, insisting that we have them for dinner.

All the lights were on when I finally made it into the kitchen, and the TV was playing quietly in the longue. An attempt had been made to tidy up a bit, and I guiltily realised that I must have left a mess when I'd made breakfast this morning, and that it had bothered Carlisle enough for him to have cleaned it up. Hoping that meant that he wasn't completely shattered, I called out for him, wandering into the longue.

He'd fallen asleep on the couch, awkwardly curled up around his laptop so that he didn't knock it onto the floor. The screen was black, meaning it hadn't been touched for a while, and I carefully closed it and set it on the table. Going to the bedroom, I grabbed the comforter off of our bed, throwing it over him while I set about reheating the food my mother had given us. I was fairly confident that he wouldn't have eaten yet.

"...tried to wait up for you…" he murmured as I shut the microwave door. "...think I fell asleep, sorry…"

I turned to face him as he stood in the kitchen doorway, undeniably pleased to see him. "Hungry?" I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into me. "Mum has given us dinner."

"She knows we can't look after ourselves," he laughed, kissing me gently and managing to become a little more coherent now.

I laughed at his choice of wording, brushing his hair off his face. "I didn't mean to wake you up, I was going to get you once the food was ready, but I wanted to leave you alone until then."

Shaking his head, he leaned back against the bench to support himself. "How are your parents?"

"Worried about you," I chuckled, quickly stealing another kiss before reaching above his head to get out some plates. "Dad wants us to go camping with them in the summer." As I dished up, I was watching watching the emotions play out across his face from the corner of my eye.

"...camping?" he repeated slowly, clearly not convinced yet. "With your father?"

"Yeah, he wants us to go out to the campground where he used to take Eleazar and I when we were kids. It could be fun?"

Clearly anxious, he looked down, picking at his fingers. "...are you sure he wants me there, Garrett? Maybe he just wants you and Eleazar's family there…"

"Hey." Touching his shoulder, I tried to break that train of thought before he got too far with it. "He specifically asked about you wanting to go; he wants you there, Carlisle. You have to stop thinking like that."

The shaky smile he offering in response didn't instill much faith in me. "...you're sure?"

I nodded, still watching him. "If it's upsetting you that much, we don't have to go."

He took the plate from me when I offered it to him. "...n-no, I want to, I just...don't want to ruin it for anyone else…"

"Sit down and eat your dinner; the only thing you'll be ruining is your food, if you let it go cold." I didn't think I'd ever get over it, his constant feelings of unworthiness, especially seeming as I thought that we were finally getting past it. His sudden emotional backtrack was nothing but confusing. Glancing over at him as I sat down, I lowered my voice. "Carlisle...are you alright? What're you not telling me?"

"It's nothing, Gar, I'm fine."

.

.

Over the next few weeks, I wasn't sure what was going on. Carlisle came home from work late but seemingly happy, and never mentioned that he was upset, but something just seemed 'off'. He was jumpy whenever I touched him, and very careful about what he wore all the time, self-conscious and shy. What made it worse, was that his anxieties were all too similar to mine before I met him, and I hated the thought of him feeling how I used to.

Tonight he seemed extra nervous upon coming home, stiffening as he stumbled into my arms when I opened the door for him. "...hey…" he mumbled into me, resting his head against my shoulder.

Upon not feeling the normal rush of warmth I felt from having his body against mine, I slipped my fingers under his jacket. There was absolutely no heat under his clothing, and a lump formed in my throat. "Hey, you okay?" I asked softly, pressing a kiss against his neck. "You're freezing, Carlisle."

He nodded. "Just tired…" The bag of groceries he was holding clattered against the table as he clumsily tried to put it down, and I just watched, trying to figure out what was _actually_ wrong with him.

"You're not feeling sick again, are you?" I pressed carefully.

"I'm fine, Garrett," he promised. "It was just a long day." Despite his words, his reluctance to let me touch him didn't escape my notice.

It hurt, and I decided to just leave him alone. There was nothing that sprung to mind which I had done that would have upset him, but he didn't want my hands on him despite it. I bit my lip and went into the longue, trying to settle but too displaced to be comfortable. I was starting to miss the way he used to hug me when he came home, and how he cuddled into me in bed. Carlisle wasn't _Carlisle_ any more.

I left him to sort himself out, unable to help brooding over it as I watched TV. This fucking sucked, and I wasn't even sure what I had done wrong; I missed him.

.

.

It hadn't dawned on me how late it was, until he interrupted my train of thought. "Coming to bed tonight, Gar?" he asked softly, leaning against the hallway door frame and sleepily rubbing his face. It'd been a few hours, and he must have already been asleep for a while. "Aren't you working tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I guess," I mumbled, fidgeting with the remote.

"...is everything okay?" Beside me now, his hand rested lightly on my shoulder.

"What'd I do wrong?" I hadn't meant the question to be backed with so much emotion, and it clearly took him by surprise too.

He took the remote out of my hand, switching the TV off and sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. "What'd you mean? You haven't done anything." Looking worried now, he trapped one of my hands between both of his, squeezing my fingers.

"You're...upset with me?" I glanced down at him, letting our eyes meet.

"No- no, I'm not." _Now_ he was upset with me, if he wasn't before; he looked scared. "Of course I'm not...why would you think…?" His fingers brushed my cheek as he leaned forward to kiss me, his other hand teasing the back of my neck.

"...you don't want to talk anymore, and...I don't know, Carlisle, I just…"

"I don't want to make you feel bad, Garrett, you've been nothing but good to me; please don't think you've done anything wrong." He let me wrap my arms around him, kissing my neck as I pulled him into my lap. His lips trailed up my jaw as I ran my hands up his back, letting me shift him so he was somewhat straddling me, his fingers in my hair. "I love you, I'm really sorry if I've cut you out; I didn't mean to."

A little relieved by his reassurances, I tightened my hold on him. I was sure he was lighter than he used to be, while he was on top of me like this, but it wasn't a conversation for now. "What's going on with you, then?"

He frowned, sighing quietly and hesitating before answering. "I'm trying to adjust, I guess? I'm not sure...things seem harder after I screwed up the other weekend. I scared you and your mother, and I ruined what was supposed to be a good night out… It was just one night; it's just dumb that it still makes me feel like crap," he mumbled eventually. "..my job isn't what I thought it would be…"

"Why am I only just finding out this now? You can tell me when things aren't right." I squeezed him, sad that he hadn't said anything after all this time.

Just shrugging, he thought about it for a moment. "I didn't want you to worry about it."

"Please tell me when things are wrong," I pleaded.

"Let's go to bed, Gar, it's almost two AM; we both have work in the morning." He changed the subject to avoid answering me. "You're doing everything perfectly; don't worry about it."

I compiled; it _was_ far too late to be up. Slipping my fingers through his, I squeezed his hand. "Ignoring things isn't going to make things better, Carlisle."

.

.

I'd be forever grateful that Carlisle didn't turn my words on me. My stomach was in my throat, and I was trying to pretend that the whole thing wasn't happening, but I was standing in the middle of a shopping mall having a panic attack because the date for Edward and Bella's wedding was far closer than I had anticipated. I was squeezing my boyfriend's hand so tightly it must have been hurting, ignoring the sick feeling in my chest and attempting to convince myself everything was fine.

Without saying anything, Carlisle started to pull me toward one of the exits, slipping his arm around me waist. "Breathe, Garrett," he murmured softly. "You'll get dizzy."

I already felt like I was going to black out, but I didn't tell him that; I was pretty sure I'd scream if I opened my mouth, and the walls of the food hall were already closing in on me. My knees were weak under me, and I put all of my focus on the door.

As soon as we were outside, he guided me to sit on the closest park bench, sitting next to me and pulling me into a hug. "What happened?" he asked softly.

My lungs were burning as I sucked in the fresh air, and I leaned my cheek against his shoulder. What _had_ happened, was that while wandering through a department store in search of a wedding present, I'd come to the sudden realisation that I was going to have to shop for clothing for the event. Although I had been pretty sure I was okay with myself, this was suddenly my worst nightmare. "I don't know," I told him instead. "I don't want to do this…"

"I'll do it by myself, then, and you can go home," he suggested, rubbing my back.

I shook my head, holding fistfuls of his t-shirt against his shoulder blade to try and calm down. "...I want to do this with you…" Quiet for a while, I focused on getting enough air into my lungs to stop my head spinning, and trying to untie the knot in my stomach. Eventually I felt okay enough to sit back again. "...what is someone supposed to wear to a wedding, anyway?" I asked, carefully broaching the subject. I'd managed to block out whatever I'd been told for my brother's ceremony all those years ago.

He squeezed my hand, obviously realising the problem. "That's what you're worried about?" It wasn't mean question, and more a moment of realisation than anything.

"I thought I was fine with it, but I feel like I'm going to suffocate whenever I get too close to the fitting rooms, and...I thought I was past this…" I admitted, a little scared to look at him.

Running his fingers through my hair, he kissed me quickly. "You're doing so much better than when I first met you, though," he reminded me, keeping one hand on my waist.

The only reason I was going better was because he was so patient with me, but I kept my mouth shut. Instead, I risked glancing up at him, suddenly realising that he didn't look very well. I suspected that maybe we'd been out too long and he hadn't had breakfast before we left.

"No one will be looking at us anyway; it doesn't matter what you wear. Whatever you wore to my father's funeral would probably be fine?" He'd tried to hide it, but a discomfort flashed across his face before he managed to smother it again, faint hurt. "It's the same type of formal, right?"

I nodded, leaning forward to bring our lips together again. "...I guess so...Should we stop and get something to eat on the way home?"

My attempt at baiting him into eating didn't work; he just looked confused. "If you're already feeling like this, Gar, maybe we should postpone that?" Rubbing my hand, he was silently pleading with me for forgiveness for his assumption that I couldn't handle it.

Unfortunately, he was right; I was pretty sure I would puke if I tried to swallowing anything at the moment. "Alright, I'll cook when we get home, then. Let's go get this damn present."

"We don't have to do that today; I can come back by myself later," he told me as I stood up, his hands on my waist to steady me.

"Let's just get it over and done with." I couldn't shake a gut feeling of not wanting Carlisle to be out by himself, but I also couldn't decide why I was so worried about it. He was an adult; he would realistically be fine. But even though he was the one trying to steady me, he was the one that was unsteady on his feet.

Nodding, he gave in and just held my hand, careful to not take me through the food hall or anywhere too overwhelming. It took us another hour to get back to the car, and I was thoroughly had it. "Do you feel okay to drive home?" Carlisle asked as we made it to the carpark. His hold on my fingers had become rather weak, and it wasn't instilling any confidence in me.

"Yes, I'll be fine," I assured him, quickly wrapping my arm around his waist as he stumbled. "Are _you_ alright?"

"...little bit lightheaded," he mumbled, leaning into me.

"Don't faint in the middle of the carpark," I warned, only half kidding.

"I won't," he tried to tell me, only to trip as we reached the car.

"Jesus, Carlisle." I quickly unlocked the door and pushed him into the passenger's seat. "Put your head between you knees." I didn't know if that was an actual thing or not, but I vaguely remembered mum telling me to do it once when I complained I was dizzy.

His breathing was unsteady, and he did what he was told. I just kept my hand on his shoulder, not wanting him to fall forward if he did happen to lose consciousness.

Eventually, he sat back again, a little more colour in his cheeks. I closed his door, and got into the driver's side. "What brought all that on?"

"I don't know...it happens at work sometimes, and I just have to sit down for a bit and it gets better…" he admitted, reaching for my hand.

My frustration almost bubbled over, but I managed to hold my tongue. "What on earth am I going to do with you?"

"...Take me home for a nap?" he asked, teasing me, although I was pretty sure that was what he wanted.

I rolled my eyes, unable to help chuckling for myself. "Alright, Carlisle."

.

.


	52. Chapter 52

This morning, he seemed worse than usual, taking two bites of toast before throwing it out the window for the birds. Despite the heat, he'd stolen one of my sweatshirts, almost drowning in the fabric but seemingly comforted by it. It wasn't quite office attire, but I knew better than to question it by this point.

The hug he gave me before he left lasted a little longer than usual. "...I love you..." he mumbled into me.

"I love you too," I murmured, running my fingers through his hair as I squeezed him. "I'll come and see you on your break, and we can go for lunch?" Mostly, I was just seeking reassurance that he was okay half way through the day. Not that a lunch date _wouldn't_ be nice.

He nodded, standing on his toes to kiss me. A worried smile spread across his face as I brushed my thumb across his cheek, holding his face in my hand as I brought our lips together again.

.

.

I left earlier than I needed to, knowing full well I'd have to wait a little while for him. It didn't matter to me; the gut feeling of something being wrong wouldn't shift, and I just wanted to be with him again. There was still fifteen minutes to spare as I parked, and I decided to risk heading inside, not wanting to roast sitting in the car. Considering he knew I was coming, I was pretty sure Carlisle wouldn't be upset with me for being there this time.

I almost couldn't believe what I was seeing. The bigger man had pinned him against the wall in the hallway, leaning down to kiss him. Carlisle turned his face away before he could, but he roughly grabbed his cheek and forced him to look at him. He shoved his mouth against his, biting his lip and letting his hands wander down his body. It was over after a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. I was frozen in the doorway, wanting to deck the guy but unable to move.

"Back to work, Cullen," he told him, smirking. The kiss he placed on his forehead was visibly belittling, and my boyfriend sank into himself to get away.

Holding his breath, he just nodded, struggling to keep his composure and sort of leaning against the closest desk as his legs shook. His cheeks were stinging with heat and he kept his head down.

The man brought his hand down hard against his ass as he began to walk away, grinning to himself. It had been violent enough that Carlisle had jumped forward a little, blushing hard. Humiliated tears overflowed, and he ducked his head.

"The boss's whore," the receptionist muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he saw it too. "What a job."

Carlisle bolted to the bathroom, letting the door swing shut behind him.

I finally got my legs to work, quickly following him and bursting through the door just in time to watch him vomit into the sink. "Did he hurt you? Are you okay?" I asked frantically, pulling him into me.

"I'm sorry- I'm really sorry, Garrett- I didn't want to, but he made me-"

"I know, I know, Carlisle, I'm not mad at you," I soothed, rubbing his shoulder as I hugged him. "Are you hurt anywhere?" Holding my hand against his cheek, I brushed away the few tears that fell with my thumb.

Shaking and looking ill, he wrapped his arms around my neck, pulling himself up to bury his face in my shoulder. "...sorry..." he mumbled again.

"I'll take you home, where's your jacket?" I traced circles against the small of his back, hating the way he trembled. Everywhere the brute of a man had touched his was still red from his hands, and I wondered if it was going to turn to bruises.

He just shook his head, struggling to compose himself enough to leave the bathroom. "...he's not going to let me go," he told me quietly, wiping his face dry. "Not until six..."

"He's not going to have a choice, we could call the police-"

"I need this job, Garrett," he interrupted quickly. "I can't do that..."

"But this can't keep happening, Carlisle," I argued. "You're going to have to tell someone. Whose in the position above him? Could you go to them?"

He just shook his head, pulling away to fold his arms. "...it doesn't matter...it's just a kiss; it's not a big deal, right?" He was sort of pleading with me, nibbling his lip until he drew blood.

"It's abusive; it _is_ a big deal." I was fighting down frustration; I didn't like that he was trying to downplay the whole thing, but I knew he was terrified and was just trying to cope. "Tell him you're not feeling well, and that you need to go home."

"I-I can't, Garrett..." His words caught in his throat, fighting crying.

" _Carlisle._ "

"I can't!"

"You have to; you can't stay here in this state anyway, for god's sake." My words were too harsh, and he shrunk back again.

"...I'm scared..."

"He can't punish you for being sick." I ran my hand through my hair, sighing through my teeth. "Please?"

Eventually, he nodded and slowly made his way out of the bathroom. I watched his confidence shrink away as he approached the man again, and he shifted uncomfortably as he waited for him to turn around.

He was frowning as he turned to face him, but it lifted into a smile once he realised it was Carlisle behind him. "Did you miss me, sweetheart?" he asked softly, his paw grabbing at his waist.

Carlisle stiffened, his shoulders becoming rigid. "...I feel really sick...can I please go home? I can still finish my assignment, and..."

His eyebrows knitted together. "You're not trying to get away from me, are you, Carlisle?"

He swallowed thickly, his hands shaking. "N-no, I just...I don't feel good..." Thankfully, he did actually look rather unwell; cheeks flushed and pale, his hair starting to stick to his face no matter how many times he pushed it back.

Watching him carefully, he relented after a minute. "Alright, you can go. Take the time that you need, my love." He leaned down to kiss his cheek, much to his obvious discomfort. I was pretty sure that he was being purposefully patronising, and he seemed to be getting the effect that he wanted; if the pet names were an attempt to force my boyfriend into submission, it was definitely working. Watching him walk back to me, his frowned grew. "Carlisle?"

"Yes, sir?" He froze with his back turned, his eyes locked on mine and pleading for help I couldn't give him as I kept myself hidden behind the wall.

"Remember what we talked about; watch what you eat," he told him sharply. "And don't you dare say anything to that boyfriend of yours."

Heat flooded his face again, and he ducked his head as he nodded. Instead of coming to me, he walked straight past me, wanting to get outside.

"Carlisle," I interrupted, speeding up to get to his side.

"I'll walk," he mumbled, prickly toward my presence.

"What'd he do to you this morning? What's he talking about?" I pressed once we were out the doors.

"Nothing, Garrett, leave it."

"If it was nothing, you wouldn't be about to cry." I tried to catch his hand, but he wouldn't let me.

"I'm not." His voice broke anyway.

"What'd he say to you?"

"Nothing."

"Carlisle," I groaned, watching him go in the opposite direction of the car park. "Just get in the car."

"I don't want to talk about it; I'm not driving with you if you're just going to interrogate me all the way home!"

"Fine, I'll leave it, but get in the car; you're not walking in this state."

"Maybe the exercise will get him off my back," he grumbled, looking hurt.

It pulled me up short. "Hey...he's picking on you about your weight?" I asked softly, holding his wrist. It had made him freeze, and he didn't know what to do. "That's not fair; does he want you to gain it or lose it?" Some stupid part of me was hopeful that this might get him eating again, even if it was out of fear of his manager.

"...lose it…" Picking at his fingers, he was drawing blood, unable to look at me.

My stomach sank instantly. "You can't afford to do that, Carlisle, you never gained the weight back after you were sick. You can't do that-"

"It doesn't matter." He pulled his hand out of mine, annoyed.

"Yes it does; of course it does! For fuck's sake, if you stop eating because of him, I'm going to lose my mind," I groaned.

He cut me off, drawing into himself. "Leave it."

"I can't; I love you. Is that what this is about? You want to hide from him?" I tugged his sweatshirt lightly, and he snatched the fabric out of my hands. "You're underweight, Carlisle, jesus. You can't honestly believe that-"

"Stop it! I can't handle him reminding me I'm disgusting and you wanting me to do the opposite that he tells me! It hurts enough that he gets to touch me wherever he wants all day and I can't stop him and I don't want you to be upset with me too," he exploded at me suddenly, effectively startling everybody in earshot. Humiliated, he just wrapped his arms around himself, hyperventilating and trying to ignore that people were watching us now.

"Come and get in the car, Carlisle," I coaxed, wrapping my arm around his waist and slowly guiding him back toward the car park. I hugged him once we were far enough away from everyone to stop them looking at us, squeezing him tightly.

He didn't push me away this time, leaning against me and letting me keep him against my chest. "...sorry..."

"Stop apologising, please," I sighed, pressing a kiss against his neck. "I love you. I love you so much."

.

.

I called in sick for him for the rest of the week, managing to get him five days off, including his weekend. His manager sounded a little put out, but not entirely pissed that he wasn't coming in.

Carlisle relaxed a little bit once I told him, suddenly looking ten times more exhausted. He hadn't bothered getting dressed today, curling up on the couchin what he had been wearing in bed. It was pointless, really; he should have stayed _in_ bed and he was already falling asleep.

I threw a blanket over him, wrapping him in it. "Stay there, Carlisle," I murmured quietly as he fidgeted, glancing up at me. Folding my feet under myself as I sat, I fell into the seat next to him, pulling his legs over my lap. "Are you going to be okay if I go to work?" Considering the time off I'd already had recently, I couldn't really afford to be taking any more, and it would take some serious string pulling for my boss to agree to it.

"I'll be alright," he told me, offering a somewhat awkward smile. "I really am fine, Garrett…"

"I'm worried about you," I admitted, squeezing his thigh gently. "With everything that's happening-"

"It was just a kiss." Suddenly blatantly uncomfortable, he froze, unable to look at me.

"It's more than that, and you know it." The silence in the room was unbearable, and I leaned forward to kiss him, trying to ease his nerves, but he turned away slightly, not wanting it. "I don't want you to be sitting here alone and feeling like crap all day."

"I'll be okay. Really. I've got work to do anyway, so I can't sit around moping. It'll be fine." Sighing quietly, he finally glanced up to meet my gaze. "I'll tell you when you have to worry, Gar."

.

.

Politely asking Alistair to check on him wasn't the same as _telling_ him anything. In my head, anyway. It didn't take much of a plea on my behalf to get him to go and see Carlisle on his day off, and I was overly relieved; this was day three of him being home by himself, and I was sure he got worse every time I came back. Hopefully his best friend could be a distraction.

My phone vibrated against my desk a few hours later, and I snatched it down into my lap to avoid getting caught. I'd hoped it would have been Carlisle, but Alistair's name was on my screen.

' _What's going on?'_

I thought for a moment, trying to form a response. God knows, it was related to my boyfriend. _'He's pretty down. Thanks for going.'_

' _I'll stay until you get home.'_

Thank fucking god for Alistair. It made me feel a bit better knowing that he was supervised; I didn't want to my boy left to his own devices when he wasn't feeling well.

Knowing that he was safe didn't make the hours pass any faster though. It seemed like fucking forever before I was allowed to go home, and I tried not to throw open the front door on the way in to our apartment.

Carlisle greeted me in the kitchen, kissing me quickly and pulling back with a frown. "A baby sitter, Garrett?" he asked, almost teasing but definitely unimpressed.

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay," I defended, catching his waist. Wrapping my arms around him, I squeezed him gently.

"I'm fine, Garrett, I told you. It's not a big deal," he mumbled.

Alistair was standing a few feet away, sternly shaking his head at him. "Don't even try it, Cullen. I'm not blind, and from what I can gather, Garrett is not an idiot. As much as I like seeing you, I don't want to have to come around here to watched over you because your boyfriend is afraid to leave you alone. Someone who's fine doesn't drink themselves sick within the first hour of getting to a bar, when they were supposed to spend the night with their friends You are not _fine."_

That must have hurt, but Carlisle didn't react to his words. I couldn't help it, though, quickly coming to his defense. "That wasn't his fault; we had to spend the night in A&E because he reacted to the alcohol."

"Garrett," my boyfriend groaned, annoyed I'd said anything about it.

Alistair muttered through his teeth. "For fucks sake, you don't tell me anything anymore. You need to sort your shit out, Carlisle. And, Jesus, answer the texts I send you." He pushed his way past us and out the front door, offering me a tight smile.

Defeated, Carlisle just nodded, looking a little sad. We stood in silence for a moment before he managed to speak again. "I'm going to bed."

"It's not even six o'clock, Carlisle," I argued, trying to catch hold of his waist.

"I don't care…" he mumbled, managing to evade me grabbing him and disappearing down the hallway.

With a sigh, I chose just to get something to eat and leave him alone. Smothering him wasn't going to do either of us any good, and the concept of 'you need to talk to the people who care about you' obviously wasn't going to catch on very quickly.

.

.

Unsurprisingly, Carlisle was still awake when I got into bed, and glanced up at me. I smiled, and leaned down to kiss him, fairly certain that he was trying to gauge whether I was upset with him or not. He wrapped his arms around my neck, holding me there a second.

"Let me get changed, and then I'll lie down," I assured him, loosening his hold on me.

He watched me fuss about, waiting until I was on the opposite side of the room before he spoke. "...I think Alistair is right…" he mumbled.

"About what?" I was only half listening, focused on finding something comfortable to wear instead.

"...About me...that I'm not okay…"

That caught my attention, and I quickly looked over at him. He was picking at his fingers, his hands in his lap. "I know, Carlisle," I told him softly, sitting back on the bed and wrapping his hands in my own. Already, I could see that he was worried about saying that much, panicking over the consequence of telling me. "But it's alright." I squeezed his fingers.

He was quiet for a moment, his breaths shallow and fast, before eventually continuing. "...I don't feel well, a-and I can't breathe when I go to work, a-and…"

I didn't want to press him, but I had to while he was giving me the opportunity, even though it was only going to upset him."What'd you mean, you're not well? Are you still sick?" Wanting him to be okay with talking, I wrapped my arms around him, slowly rubbing his back as he leaned against me.

It seemed to help a little bit, and he relaxed slightly. "...I don't know...I get dizzy all the time, and I feel really sick...a-and I'm always cold…" He was right; he was freezing, even in my arms.

I gently brought my lips to his, brushing my fingers through his hair. "Does this have anything to do with what's happening at work?" Feeling his body stiffen, and seeing tears welling up, I squeezed him a little tighter. That was enough of an answer. "How far does he go with you?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know, really, but I couldn't just leave it.

He swallowed thickly, drawing into himself. "...however far he feels like that day…"

Feeling nauseous, I tried to shove down a wave of anger, but he interrupted before I had to ask.

"H-he never makes me undress, Garrett, it isn't like that," he told me quickly.

I breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing as he leaned his cheek against my chest. "He doesn't hurt you?" When he shook his head, I only half believed him; even if he didn't physically do anything, his words were obviously stinging.

.

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	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53! I honestly surprised that people are still reading this mess of a story, but I'm glad that you seem to be enjoying it. And an extra big thank you to those of you who leave reviews; reading them makes me very happy (:**

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Now that he'd told me things weren't okay, he was having problems holding it together. Our work buildings were close enough together that we could spend our lunch breaks together most days, so he wouldn't be caught alone with that awful man. I got the feeling that his boss was trying to keep Carlisle isolated during the day; he continuously changed the times of his breaks so that they didn't line up with mine, or denied him them completely.

Those days were the worst. When he would come to me shaking and upset but refuse to tell me what had happened. Today was one of those days.

Sitting in the lunchroom of my office, Carlisle was so withdrawn he hadn't said a word since he'd come in. My co-workers were used to him being with us now, and weren't at all surprised by his presence. I kept my arm around him, slowly rubbing his side as he leaned his head against my shoulder. Neither of us were eating, and I was barely aware that anyone else was in the room.

"You alright today, Carlisle? You're awfully quiet," Riley, the guy who worked at the desk across from mine, asked. Usually, my boyfriend managed to keep up a polite conversation with them, and having him here all the time was actually helping me make friends with them after all these months. His eyes flicked up to mine when he didn't get a response. "Are you guys all good? He looks like he needs to lie down."

I sighed, and squeezed him a little tighter. "He's having a rough day at work…" Glancing down at him, he was quite a bit paler than normal, and definitely unfocused. "Carlisle," I murmured, wanting some kind of reaction.

Responding to his name and the sound of my voice, he glanced up to look at me. He _really_ didn't look well.

Cursing under my breath, I tried to figure out the logistics of taking him home. I was not going to be able to get the time off, but I couldn't just send him back to work either. "Are you okay?" I forced a smile, hoping to get an answer this time.

"...yeah…" he mumbled, trying to squeeze my hand but not having the strength to.

I ran my thumb over the back of his fingers, and shot Riley an apologetic smile which he returned.

"You two should come out for a drink tonight, if you're feeling up to it; it's nothing major, just a few people from around the office...it might cheer you up a bit?" he suggested hopefully, getting up to head for the door.

I got a rush of warmth from his genuine concern; I'd never had much luck making friends, and it would be nice having someone that didn't just like me by default because I was dating Carlisle. "Thanks, Riley." I sighed as he left the room, realising that Carlisle wouldn't want to go. Giving up, I hugged him tightly, kissing his neck. "I have just enough time to drive you home, if we leave now, but I can't stay with you," I told him. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel pushed away, but I didn't have another choice.

"It's okay, my boss won't let me anyway." His cheeks heated slightly, and he buried his face in my shoulder, not wanting to acknowledge it. Looking down at his phone for the time, he sighed quietly, his shoulders slumping. "I have to go…"

"I'll walk you, Carlisle, come." I held onto him as I stood up, pulling him up with me. He stumbled in my arms, and I kept him against me as we made our way out.

"You need to go out with them tonight," he murmured as we reached the street.

I frowned, wanting to but hating myself for it. "But are you going to come with me?"

"...I can't, Gar, but you can still have fun; you don't have to stay home all the time just because I'm useless…" He tried to smile, but was feeling too shitty to manage it.

"Carlisle," I groaned, torn.

"Just go, Garrett. I'll be fine, and you need to see other people that aren't just me, anyway...This can't consume you as well.''

Stopping outside of his office building, I leaned down to kiss him; he already looked like he wanted to cry, and it was breaking my heart. "Are you sure?" I still wasn't convinced.

"Yes; I'll see you when you get home. Go and have fun tonight."

I hugged him quickly. "I love you. Call me if you need me, and I'll come home instead-"

"Stop it, I love you too. What's the worst that can happen?"

.

.

"Garrett! You came!" Already tipsy, my co-worker threw his arms around my shoulders. Thankfully, the bar wasn't too crowded, so I wasn't overwhelmed the minute I stepped in the door. A few other people I worked with were there, and I smiled awkwardly in greeting. I didn't know them all that well, and I didn't think we'd ever had an actual conversation.

"Yeah, I guess so," I mumbled, not exactly sure what I was doing there in the first place. Something made me desperately want to fit in, like highschool all over again.

"No Carlisle though?" he frowned.

"He's, uh, tired...it's been a rough day…" Rather, his boss was abusing him and I'd abandoned him to hang out with people who probably didn't even like me that much. Trying to stop that train of thought before it go too far, I shoved my hands into my pockets, fidgeting. It was taking all of my self control not to run out again and go back to him; he would be finishing work soon, and I didn't like the thought of him of him by himself.

"He's kind of... _odd_ , anyway. I guess it's true; the cute ones always are crazy," one of the woman murmured.

I bristled, only just holding my tongue before I snapped at her and ruined my chance of friendship. "He's not crazy, he's just going through a lot," I told them instead.

"Why are you with him, anyway? He seems so clingy; it's weird. You should be with someone who gives you as much as you give them."

There was no point in trying to explain anything to her. "Because we love each other, and he's good for me." Quickly becoming annoyed, I focused my attention on Riley. He seemed to notice my discomfort, ushering me to sit down with them before I bolted.

"Leave it alone, Leah," he murmured. "He's only shy."

"And he's so bloody thin; it's uncomfortable to look at," she huffed.

She'd reached the end of my already short temper. "Shut up about him; he's fine."

Riley put his hand against the small of my back. "What'd you lot want to drink? The first round is on me, in celebration of Friday."

As everyone called out their orders, I followed him up to the bar, not wanting to be left alone with them. "Thanks for inviting me…" I told him awkwardly as we waited to be served. I didn't quite have the courage to look at him yet.

"I'm glad you came. We're here almost every Friday, if we don't scare you off. You can bring Carlisle too, if he's up to it; the more the merrier, right?" He smiled, nudging me.

I just nodded, not ready to commit yet. In his current condition, there was no way that Carlisle was ever going to come with me, but I knew he would encourage me to return. Mulling it over, I picked up the glasses that Riley couldn't carry, returning to the group and struggling to put them down without spilling them everywhere. It had everyone giggling, and I couldn't help myself either, starting to laugh as well.

.

.

By the time I left the bar, I was far tipsier than I needed to be. Drinking on an empty stomach hadn't served me well, and I decided that walking home was a much safer option than driving; I could just come and get my car in the morning. It was raining a little, but the weather had warmed to a point where it wasn't unpleasant, and I didn't mind being slightly damp.

My attempt to be quiet as I opened the front door failed miserably; I tripped over myself as I unlocked, and practically fell into our kitchen, giggling to myself. "You okay, Carlisle?" I asked, steadying myself on the bench and glancing over at him.

He looked slightly alarmed, and I couldn't tell whether something had happened, or if my grand entrance had given him a fright. " _Please_ tell me you did not just drive home?" he asked, ignoring my question.

I shook my head, obedient. "No, I have to go get my car tomorrow." Finding my footing again, I wobbled over to him, relieved to see him and wanting to have my arms around him.

Laughing a little, he dodged me. "No way; you're soaking wet, and I've already showered."

"That's rude," I teased, unable to stop myself laughing as well. "I just want a hug."

"Go and change your clothes, then." He was only half teasing me now. When I didn't make a move, he grabbed my hand, pulling me down the hallway. "Come and get changed before you get sick; you'll already be hungover tomorrow morning, and you don't need to feel even more crappy."

He was right, of course, but I wasn't listening. "You're not going to make me shower, are you?"

"Not if you don't want to, just get dry." Stopping halfway to our room to grab a towel from the bathroom, he threw it at me.

I couldn't catch, fumbling to grab hold of it before it hit the ground. Upon his instructions, I stripped when he told me to, attempting to dry myself enough so that he would let me sit on the bed.

Handing me a change of clothes and pulling the wet ones away from me, he waited for me to take them, putting them beside me when I didn't. "Get dressed, Garrett."

"You just told me to get _un_ dressed," I reminded him, starting to laugh again. Slipping my arms around his waist, I pulled him toward me. "Why am I the only one without clothes on? That's not fair."

Smiling at my whining, he just rolled his eyes. "Because you're the only one who walked home in the rain and didn't catch a taxi," he teased, brushing his fingers through my hair. "Come on, Gar, you'll get cold; put your clothes on."

It was far too warm to catch a cold, and that wasn't any incentive to me. When I ignored his requested, he started the process for me, pulling a shirt over my head and forcing me to put my arms through the sleeves.

"What'd you drink?" he was laughing to himself, presumably _at_ me now.

Wanting to prove that I was still an adult, I got my pants on by myself. "I don't know; whatever the others did. But they had lunch, so that's not fair," I pointed out, defending myself.

"Did you manage to eat at all while you were out…?" That question was gentle, and he leaned down to kiss me, his hand resting against my neck and my cheek.

"Do we have to talk about this?" I grumbled. The intimacy was nice, but a conversation about my failures wasn't something I fancied right then.

"Yes; have you had anything since breakfast?" Sitting next to me on the bed, he slipped his arms around me. It helped to dull the sting of the question, but I still wasn't happy about it. Taking my silence as an answer, he stood again, locking his fingers with mine. "Come, I'll make you dinner."

"You're going to eat too, right?" I wasn't letting that go, if he was going to call _me_ out on not eating.

"Please just sit at the table." Pulling out a chair for me, he wasn't joking quite so much anymore.

"Not unless you will too," I argued.

"Fine, I'll try," he agreed eventually.

"Am I annoying?" I asked bluntly, seeing that he didn't look very happy about the whole thing.

That made him smile again. "Currently, or in general?"

I threw the tea-towel at him, chuckling. "Are you going to be mad at me in the morning?"

"No, of course not," he laughed.

"But I _am_ annoying?"

Setting a plate of food in front of me, he leaned down to kiss my cheek. "You put up with my shit all day, every day; you're allowed to go out and have fun and come home and be a pain in the ass every once in a while." He was joking, mostly, but I knew he meant what he said.

I supervised as he sat in front of me, tracing each tiny forkful that he lifted to his mouth. It didn't escape my notice that he was picking around the meat, only eating the vegetable portion of the meal.

Eventually, he caught me watching him, rolling his eyes. "What? I'm eating it." _Now_ he was really unimpressed with me, setting his fork on his plate to run his hand through his hair.

Even drunk, I was well aware of what he was doing. "What else have you eaten today?"

"You haven't even touched your meal; worry about that first," he grumbled at me.

"Have you had anything?" I took a mouthful to shut him up, chewing it slowly.

"You didn't eat lunch either," he pointed out, annoyed.

"No, but I had breakfast. And I finished dinner last night." I didn't want to be patronising, but it was going to end up that way.

"I'm eating now…" Losing confidence, he ducked his head so he didn't have to look at me.

"Only vegetables, though. What's that worth, maybe 150 calories, most? And that's the only thing you've had, besides a coffee at lunch?" I guessed, taking another bite.

Silent, he didn't say anything, wringing his hands in his lap. "...I don't like it…"

" _You_ cooked it, though. What do you want to eat, then? You must be hungry?" It didn't make sense to me, even more so while I had too much alcohol in my system.

"...I feel sick, Garrett, I can't…" he mumbled.

I sighed through my teeth. "I'm too drunk to talk about this now," I admitted, not trusting myself not to say anything that would make things worse. The tension melted from his shoulders at my words, and he managed a shaky smile.

We ended up going to bed straight after dinner, because I was drunk and Carlisle was tired. He fussed around in the kitchen before coming to the bedroom, no doubt doing dishes and tidying up.

It took a little while for him to come back to me, and I knew that he was unsettled by our conversation. Still, he kissed me once he came back in. "Drink this and swallow these." He pressed a couple of pills into my palm, and handed me a glass of water.

"Why?" I grumbled, doing what he told me anyway. I was beyond making decisions for myself by that point.

"Because you're going to feel awful tomorrow morning, and you won't feel quite so shit if you're not dehydrated and in pain." Climbing into bed, he waited until I lay down as well before curling up against me. Having my arms around him seemed to help him calm down again, and we were quiet for a while.

"You're a good boyfriend," I accused suddenly as the thought popped into my head, squeezing him a little tighter.

"I'm glad you think so; so are you. Now shut up and go to sleep." He kissed my neck, leaning his cheek against my chest.

.

.

The next morning, he made me breakfast while I nursed a hangover. Despite putting egg on the toast, as he had done for me, he only separated the bread, nibbling that and pulling apart his salad. Again, he was immediately uncomfortable upon realising that he was being watched, his face flushing as he looked down. He got up and made us both coffee as a distraction, and I knew he was avoiding the subject.

"How was your boss yesterday, after you went back to work?" I let him hand me the mug, but now that I was sober I was hyper aware that it should be me looking after him, not the other way round.

He immediately became guarded, his shoulders stiffening. "No worse than usual."

Holding his wrist once he was close enough to me, I didn't let him pull away. "He hasn't hurt you?" I asked carefully, trying to be gentle.

"N-no, he never hurts me…"

There was no way I believed him, not for a second. Sliding my hand up his arm, I locked my free arm around his waist, pulling him into me lap. "Please don't lie to me, Carlisle."

"I'm not- he's not violent with me, he just...you've seen what he does. It's not more than that…" About to cry, he leaned his head against my shoulder, wrapping his arms around my neck.

"Then why don't you eat? Because of what he said to you?"

"...and I don't feel well...I'll throw up…" he mumbled anxiously.

"Should I be taking you to a doctor?" I frowned, running my fingers through his hair. "Is this something more than just stress?"

"I don't know, Gar, I don't want to think about it…"

"We're going to have to talk about this sooner or later," I reminded him. "I know you don't want to, but we're going to have to face this; it can't keep happening."

"But I don't know what to do...I'm scared…"

Sighing, I just squeezed him. It worried me a but that he wasn't holding me very tightly; I suspected that he was trying to, but didn't have the strength. "Are you getting dizzy again?" I asked carefully, rubbing his back.

He nodded miserably. "...get really light-headed...feels like I'm going to faint and I don't know why…"

"Not eating, for a start," I pointed out, suddenly skeptical of his stability. "And you're hyperventilating. Do you need to lie down again?"

"Y-yeah, maybe…" His words were starting to slur together a little, and he pulled back to get to his feet.

Against my better judgement, I let him stand up. Instantly, I knew it was a bad idea; the colour drained from his face immediately, and he sort of stumbled to lean against the bench. "Sit down," I told him quickly, jumping up to stop him falling.

He had enough sense to lean against the cupboards as he started to lose consciousness, and I managed to stop him hitting the ground too hard.

Panicking, I suddenly wanted to cry, carefully helping him lie down so he couldn't hurt himself. I didn't know if I was supposed to call an ambulance or just let him wake up on his own, but he was so, _so_ pale, and wasn't warm when I touched him. "Carlisle, wake up," I pleaded, shaking his shoulder. "Please…"

It was the longest minute of my life, but he managed to come around again fairly quickly. He was stunned, confused as he tried to sit up and I pushed him back down.

"You passed out," I explained, trying to make sense of what was happening. "Stay there a little while." Kneeling, I forced myself to breathe, not wanting to let on that I was freaking out. "Do you want a doctor- I can take you to the hospital?"

"...n-no…" he mumbled, shaking his head and rubbing his hands over his face. "...no hospitals…"

"What do I do- I don't know what to do, Carlisle," I argued frantically, still holding him.

His attempt to squeeze my hand was weak, and he was struggling to remain coherent. "...tired…"

"I know, I think we'd better spend the day in bed today, if you won't let me take you to get help."

"...okay…" He sat up once I let him, leaning forward to brace himself against his knees. The colour wouldn't return to his complexion, and he was shaky after the effort to get upright, leaning into me as I hugged him.

"Are you going to be able to stand up?" Rubbing his back, I leaned my chin against his shoulder. There was no way I wanted him on his feet if he was only going to come back down again, and I squeezed him tightly, desperate to protect him.

"...soon…" He wrapped his arms around my neck, needing the comfort.

It was another twenty minutes before I trusted him enough to stand, and I kept my hands on him until he was lying down again. "Are you okay?" I asked anxiously, needing to hug him but too scared to hurt him if he was in pain after falling.

Nodding, he rubbed my hand, folding one arm back over his face as he forced deep breaths. "Are you?" he tried to tease.

I linked my fingers through his. "Yes, but you scared the shit out of me." Forcing myself to calm down, I lay beside him, wrapping myself around him. "We can't keep doing this; you need to get help."

"...not today, though…"

I groaned in disapproval. "But _soon_ though."


	54. Chapter 54

The bruising wasn't healing. Although I thought that I had protected him when he fell, he was black and blue wherever he'd hit the cupboards or the ground. What stung most was the marks from where I'd grabbed him. He moved like it hurt, wincing whenever he knocked into things, but unsteady and off-balance and unable to help it. More than once that weekend, I had been worried that he was going to faint again, but he managed to sit down before he fell. We were both nervous to go back to work on Monday, but there was no avoiding it. I continued worrying, Carlisle continued not eating, and his boss continued making both of our lives hell.

Coming home to find that Carlisle had beaten me in the door was not a welcome surprise anymore. "What happened?" I asked, immediately a little panicked and hurrying to put my stuff down.

"I'm okay, Garrett, I just...I was dizzy, so my boss sent me home...I guess having him 'like' me has it's perks…?" His own joke made him uncomfortable, and I wondered what favour he'd had to trade in to be able to come back.

Forcing myself to calm down and take a few deep breaths, I sat next to him on the couch, trapping his hands in mine. It only seemed to increase his anxiety, and I wasn't convinced that I wanted to hear whatever he was building up to tell me. "I guess so," I agreed, trying to smile.

He looked down, biting his lip as he thought about it. "...He's got a wife and kids at home, Gar. I don't understand how he can do what he does and then go home to them like he hasn't just made some guy…" Pulling his knees up, he hugged his legs, resting his chin on them.

"It's not your job to worry about his family." I shuffled over to wrap my arms around him.

"It's not my job to suck his dick, either, but I still have to do that." His bluntness shocked me into silence for a few seconds, but he sounded bitter about it rather than upset.

"Carlisle…"

"He's such a bad person...how can he be allowed to have children? What if he's like my father to them…?"

I swallowed thickly, tightening my fingers around his shirt. "Your dad didn't ever...did he…?" Hoping that he would understand without me having to outright asking him, I carefully watched his face in hope of gauging his anxiety.

Thankfully, he shook his head without flinching, and I took his answer for truth. "No, he was very religious; he'd never commit a sin like that." He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "Though, he was dumb enough to think that beating his child was a way of making them pay for their sins."

"Are you okay?" I asked again. Although I appreciated him talking to me, he was scaring me a little bit; his mood was far darker than I'd anticipated, but he still wasn't upset. He was just...numb…  
"You didn't fall or anything today, right?" I clarified.

"No...I'm okay now I'm sitting down."

"...You aren't, Carlisle, you really aren't yourself…"

"You said that we had to acknowledge it eventually, so I am. I'm essentially cheating on you with my boss to keep my job, and I'm pretty sure the whole office knows about it, and he reminds me of my father and I hate him and he offered me a pay rise this morning but I'm pretty sure that if I take it, I'll be letting him fuck me instead of jerking him off." That was it for him maintaining composure; he fell apart, burying his face in my shoulder.

"God, you need a break," I sighed, pulling him into my lap to hug him properly. It was slightly uncomfortable now; he was worryingly light, and I was scared of hurting him. "You have to get out of there."

.

.

Saturday rolled around, and the weather was so nice there was no way we could stay inside. I'd woken up before Carlisle, and after another half an hour rolled passed, I went to wake him up, not wanting it to be too late in the day when we left. A little too excited to be gentle, I ripped open the curtains, letting the sunlight stream in onto the blankets. The bed jolted with my weight as I fell onto it, and I gently shook Carlisle awake. How he'd managed to sleep through my grand entrance into the bedroom, I had no idea.

"Wake up, we're going for a drive," I murmured to him, pressing a kiss against his lips as he glanced up at me.

"...where?" he asked, sitting up and shuffling up the bed to lean against the headboard. "It's still early...?"

"It's almost eight AM, Carlisle. Put some clothes on, and let's go; we can get breakfast on the way." Pulling the blankets back, I threw his jeans and a t-shirt at him.

Just doing what he was told, he pulled on the clothing, running his fingers through his hair until it was semi-presentable, and wandering into the bathroom to brush his teeth. "Where are we going?" he asked again, this time a little more awake.

"I thought we could go to the beach for a bit; it'll be too cold to swim, but it might be nice anyway?" I explained, already looking forward to being out of the house. Too much had happened over the last month, and I hoped going out for a while would help to clear the negativity from the air; it'd do us good to be out of town for a day.

Carlisle was clearly confused, but starting to smile at my childish enthusiasm. "...The nearest beach is a few hours away, isn't it?" he asked carefully, trying to hide his doubt but failing miserably.

I nodded, pulling him into a hug as he came back into the bedroom. He was still warm from being in bed, and it was nice to have him in my arms. "Yeah, but it's not that far. Besides, we haven't been on a date in ages-"

"Because I live with you, we're hardly 'dating'," he interrupted, laughing as he leaned up to kiss me. He tangled his fingers in my hair, one hand behind my neck to pull himself closer. "...but it sounds nice..." he admitted, his voice soft and somewhat shy.

Smiling, I rubbed the small of his back. "I'm glad; I think fresh air will do us both some good."

.

.

We stopped for coffee on the way out of town, getting pancakes and pulling over against the curb to eat them. I was trying not to look suspicious, but also attempting to gauge how much Carlisle was actually eating; despite being alone with me and having a good day planned, he still looked anxious. Trapping him in the car wasn't entirely innocent on my behalf, either; I was hoping the intimacy might get him talking again eventually.

As we continued to drive, he snuck his hand onto my leg, offering me a shy smile when I glanced over at him. I threaded my fingers through his, a weight lifting off my chest. "You've never been to a beach here, right?"

He shook his head. "...No...and not really back home, either. There wasn't anybody to take me when I was a child, and then when I got older, I never had a reason..."

I smiled, kissing the back of his fingers. "Is there anything you want to do that you were never allowed to before?" I asked carefully, unable to swallow back a wave of sadness at how easily he admitted it to me - like it was normal.

Watching me for a moment, he sighed quietly. "...It wasn't all bad, Garrett. My father used to pay a nanny to look after my siblings, and she liked me; she used to make sure that I was okay, and fix whatever he'd done to me..." There was a slight pause before he continued. "...your mother reminds me of her, actually..."

I chewed the inside of my cheek, trying to force back a surge of questions. Why he wanted to talk about this now was beyond me, but I wasn't passing up the opportunity. "How did school work for you? I mean, your father must have cared enough to enroll you?" Thinking that my words were too harsh, I winced, but Carlisle didn't flinch.

"Legally, he had to send me; I went to a public school like everyone else...that's why I like books so much; I would stay in the library after school for as long as they would let me because it was easier than going home. I used to think that the librarian enjoyed having me there, but now I'm guessing she really knew what my father did." Watching his lap, he couldn't quite bring himself to look at me.

Tightening my fingers around his, I kept my focus on the road. "Do you...miss London, Carlisle?" I hated the question, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it anyway.

That made him uncomfortable; he stiffened in his seat. "A little bit."

I kept my mouth shut, hoping he'd elaborate, and he did after a long pause.

"When I went back for my father's funeral, I thought I would hate it, but I didn't. I hate myself for not hating it, seeming as I wanted to leave it behind so badly before." Fidgeting, he was choosing his words very, very carefully. "I like it here, and I don't think I could ever move back to the UK, but I still can't let go of it..."

"You grew up there; it makes sense that you're still attached to the place," I reminded him softly, wishing I wasn't driving so that I could hug him.

"If we keep talking about this, Gar, I'm going to cry, and I don't want to ruin today with tears," he told me suddenly, forcing a laugh that was almost a sob. His hands shook as he rubbed his face, and the breaths he took were quite uneven.

I nodded and left it alone immediately, tracing circles against the back of his hand with my thumb. It wasn't the tears I was worried about; I just didn't want to push him into a panic attack, especially while we were in unfamiliar territory.

"Did you have fun with Riley the other day?" he asked after a while, clearly trying to put a little distance between himself and our last conversation.

"Yeah, it was nice. It would have been better with you there, though." Leah's comments worked their way back into my head, and I found myself chewing my lip to keep from frowning. It upset me more than it should have, not so much because she didn't like him, but because people were starting to _notice_ ; as soon as that happened, it wouldn't be long before someone said something to Carlisle, and there wasn't much I could do to stop it happening. I glanced at him while he was playing with his phone, trying to decide whether it was as bad as she'd made out.

Unfortunately, she was right. He did look sick. Living with him made me immune to the changes in him, until someone had pointed the severity of it out, but the more I thought about it, the more my eyes stung. What made it worse, was that Leah hadn't even seen the true extent of it, and she'd still called him out on it. He'd worn long sleeves and a jacket in the office, but the car was warm, and he'd stripped down to a t-shirt. Under the fabric, I could faintly see the outlines of his collarbones, and I didn't have to touch him to know that I would be able to feel his ribs.

I couldn't decide when things had gotten this much worse for him, sliding my fingers over his hand to lightly trace his wrist, trying not to worry over how prominent the bones were. My stomach cramped painfully when my fingertips met around his forearm, and I felt like I could crush him if I clenched my fist too hard.

"...You okay, Gar?" He caught my hand, effectively breaking my grasp on him and holding it instead. "You're quiet all of a sudden?"

I tried to speak, but the words caught, and I cleared my throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."

"About…?" Like he already knew the answer, he'd partly turned away, almost like he regretted asking me.

I decided not to lie. "Your situation, and how I'm supposed to get you out," I admitted.

He groaned, sinking further into his seat. "You can't do anything about it, Garrett, just leave it."

Glad that he was in the car and unable to escape, I continued. "Exactly, you're going to have to be the one to quit-"

"I can't!"

"But why not? We can figure the financial side of it out later; we'll manage. And surely if you get another job, immigration will leave you alone? They're not going to deport you for being abused, Carlisle. If the worst comes to the worst, we can go to London while you reapply for a work visa."

"I can't-"

"Jesus, all this citizenship crap would be over in a second if you marry me, and then that job wouldn't matter anymore."

"Garrett, I can't," he pleaded again, starting to hyperventilate.

Resigned to what was happening, I pressed on. "What are you so scared of, Carlisle? All of this could be done in a heartbeat, if you'd just say the words. The police would drag that bastard out on his ass if you just-"

"But what if he says that it's my fault? They'll all just blame me!" he burst out, unable to stand it anymore.

"Anyone will be able to tell just by looking at you, which one of you is the victim here," I pointed out.

"The police never helped me before! I'm not going back to court to be told that I'm a liar, and that it's all my fault again! He'll only blame me, and what's to stop everybody else believing him? There's no point in wasting everyone's time again...It won't go any better than when I tried to get help to get away from dad..."

"Your boss is not your father, Carlisle," I reminded him softly, rubbing his leg. "I know things went badly when you tried to get legal action against him, but it won't work like that this time around. They both can say it's your fault as much as they like, but it never will be."

"...I deserve it, though…" he mumbled, picking at his fingers until he drew blood. His hands were shaking, and I knew he wanted to cry.

"Nothing you've ever done could ever make it okay for him to do what he's doing to you. You don't deserve any of this." I tightened my fingers around his jeans, badly wanting him in my arms. "...Why would you ever think that you did?"

"...because things like this wouldn't keep happening if I didn't...I moved continents and ended up in almost the same position all over again; if it was supposed to stop, it would have…" He looked so sad and unsure, and I didn't know what to do with him.

"Carlisle, that doesn't make it right. It should never have happened again- fuck, it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Don't you ever, _ever_ believe any of that," I pleaded, smiling when he covered my fingers with his. "I love you."

"...I-I love you too...love you so much…"

"Have you ever thought about seeing a councillor for all this? Talking might help…?" I suggested carefully, not sure how he was going to react.

Instead of exploding at me, like I suspected he might, he just hesitated. "...when I went to the doctor after my father died...that's what she told me...but I don't know…I'm scared…"

"I know, but just think about it, okay? It's just another option to help get you through this." Quiet, I let him stew over it for a while, until we pulled into the carpark of the bay. "Don't worry about it now, though; come for a walk."

Nodding, he pulled on his jacket again and followed me out of the car. The conversation had shaken him up a bit, and he was still struggling to hold back tears. He folded his arms around himself, trying to maintain the heat he had against the wind coming off the sea.

"Come here," I murmured, pulling him into me and hugging his shoulders. "I'm sorry I brought all this up now; I just want you to be okay again." I squeezed him as he buried his face in my neck, a little guilty now.

He forced a laugh. "I'm just sorry that I cry all the time," he tried to joke. "Can we go to the beach now?"

I chuckled and kissed his cheek. "Yeah, come on."

.

.

Our attire wasn't really sand or wave appropriate, so we had to stay away from the water's edge. The air coming off the sea was quite a bit cooler than anywhere else, and we kept in the sun as much as possible; I knew the Carlisle was freezing almost instantly. I slipped my arm around his waist as we walked, but he opted to hold my hand.

As we walked, I was stealing glances at him, trying not to get caught but unable to help myself; he looked particularly sweet in the glow of the sun, and I was fighting hugging him. I already felt lighter from being away from the house, and everything was a little less crushing. For the first time since he'd told me what was happening with his boss, I could breathe properly. It helped that there was only a few other people on the beach.

"Do you feel any better out here?" I asked softly, squeezing his fingers.

He smiled, stepping closer to me. "Yeah...thanks, Gar…"

"Does the beach live up to your expectations?" I teased as I stopped and turned to face him again.

It made him laugh a little, and I relished the sound. "It does, and it doesn't look as miserable as the beaches back home. Though, it probably wouldn't be as nice without you…"

"Come here, you." I abruptly folded my legs under myself, sitting on the grass verge and pulling him down on top of me. It had us both giggling to ourselves, and I lay back and wrapped my arms around his waist. He collected my face in his hands and brought our lips together.

"I love you. Thanks for putting up with me."

"Of course I 'put up with you'. I was a mess when we met, and you put up with my shit. You've made everything infinitely better for me, Carlisle," I murmured.

He rolled his eyes but his smile stuck. We fell quiet for a while, and I folded my arm behind my head as a makeshift pillow while he leaned his head on my shoulder.

.

.

"...could stay here forever..." he mumbled, relaxed as he fidgeted with my shirt. The tension had melted from his shoulders, and the warmth of the sun was soaking into both of us, burning me and comforting him. Curling up a little more, he moulded himself to the shape of my body, slipping his arms around me. "Thank you for bringing me out here."

My hands wandered down his body, resting on his hip as I slipped my fingers under his t-shirt. The heat was making me sleepy, and the last thing I wanted to do now was drive the few hours home. Carlisle was right; I could have stayed here forever too. "I'm glad you like it. We'll have to come back once the water is a little warmer, and we can swim."

"I don't want to go home," he admitted, a little guilty.

"Me neither," I sighed. Mulling over it for a while, I watched the waves crash on the horizon, trying to savour the feeling of the boy in my arms, knowing he'd be rigid again as soon as we were back home and the threat of his boss was too real. Eventually, my stomach started growling, demanding food, and I was sure that Carlisle was about to fall asleep at any second. "Let's go get some dinner." Helping him sit up, I got to my feet, offering him my hand to pull himself up on.

He dusted his clothes off, briefly leaning up to kiss me and hugging me impulsively. The gesture was so sweet, my heart melted.

"Hungry?" I asked, hoping that being away from the stress might bring back his appetite.

"I'll eat," he assured me, threading his fingers through mine.

"Thank you," I sighed. I slipped my arm around his waist, beginning the walk back to a diner that I hadn't been to in years. My fears of it having closed down were abashed as I saw the glowing 'open' sign in the window, laughing to myself as I pulled him toward the door. "They serve the best seafood here; you'll like it."

.

.

We were both a little sad to be going as we made out way back to the car. Despite the night being fairly warm, Carlisle was starting to shiver, keeping close to me and very quiet, and I was just disappointed that we had to leave. All the problems of home seemed less while we were here, and it was as close to a holiday as either of us would get for a while.

"We could hire a room for the night," I suggested quietly.

His hand tightened around mine. "And drive home tomorrow night?"

"Yeah." I stopped by the car to steal a kiss, smiling at the weight of his arms around my neck. "As much as I'd like to stay here permanently, I'm not sure our bank accounts would allow it," I teased.

"I'd like that a lot," he murmured against my lips, holding me tightly against him. "Though it's going to be too late if we don't hurry up."

I laughed at that, stepping back and unlocking the vehicle. He was right; I only knew of one place in the town to stay, and if they didn't have a free room, we were rather screwed. The long drive was really unappealing, and I had my fingers crossed as we pulled up outside the building to see the office lady beginning to lock up.

She smiled as she saw us, pausing with her keys in the door. "Last minute customers?" she called out to me as I got out of the car, teasing a little.

I liked her immediately, and offered her a guilty smile. "Last minute decision to stay," I admitted. "Is there any chance we could book a room for the night..?"

It was either the pleading looks on our faces, or the kindness in her heart, but she playfully rolled her eyes and re-opened the office. "For you boys, I'm sure there is." The office she lead us into was cosy, and she only deliberated for a few seconds before taking a set of keys off the wall. She took our details from us, handing Carlisle's the keys while I signed for the room."It's nothing too fancy, but you boys enjoy the rest of your night. Just check out before five tomorrow," she smiled.

We thanked her, and then wandered up to find our room.


	55. Chapter 55

**Not really happy with this chapter, but it had to be here to get to the next one .-.**

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Sitting in my lap on the bed, he'd tangled one hand in my hair, the other caressing the back of my neck. His lips were soft against mine, occasionally leaving my mouth to kiss my throat.

Slipping my hands under his t-shirt, I tipped him backwards onto the mattress next to me. He wrapped his body around mine, pulling me down on top of him and forcing me to throw my hands out to catch myself so I didn't fall on him. Both of us were giggling, and he tilted his head back as I kissed his neck, working my way back up along his jaw.

"Do you think that lady knows what we're doing?" I teased him. Pulling back for a second, I tried to gauge his reaction, laughing when it made his face flush.

He rolled his eyes at me with a repressed smile. "I'd imagine she has a fair idea, yeah."

Balancing my weight on one arm, I brushed his hair back off his face. I jumped a little as he untucked my shirt and his fingers brushed my stomach; his hands were fucking freezing, and he knew it too, by the way he was struggling hard not to laugh at my reaction. Still, I obliged and took it off. It didn't slip my notice that he wasn't that comfortable with the idea of getting undressed himself, and I wasn't sure how to broach the subject.

I wriggled out of my jeans, when he unbuttoned them, and having me undressed beside him seemed to prompt him to do the same. He locked his arms around me again, seeming to want the weight of my body against him. Having the blankets over us provided a bit of security, and it was only a few more minutes before my underwear were around my ankles, and Carlisle was in the same state.

.

.

He wrapped his arms around my neck, burning his face in my shoulder. His breaths were suddenly shaky and uneven, and he was tensing up. Each time I pushed against him, it was getting worse, and his fingers were digging painfully into my back. His entire body was rigid, and the soft whimper he let out wasn't from pleasure.

I stopped moving, leaning on one elbow so that I could use my free hand to rub his back. "Am I hurting you?" I asked softly, suddenly not at all in the mood anymore.

He shook his head, but seemed desperate to stay close to me. I pulled out, rolling onto my back to pull him on top of me in hopes that it would make him look at me. "What's happening, Carlisle?"

"...I-I can't do this..." he mumbled, sounding upset. "...All I can think about is him..."

"Okay, then we won't," I assured him, rubbing his shoulder. While he was against me, I tucked the blankets around us, trying to take away the vulnerability of the situation.

"But you're my boyfriend and I love you...it's not fair on you..."

"It's okay, Carlisle. I don't care about that right now. It's alright." Hugging him, I kissed his cheek, squeezing him a little tighter. "Don't worry about it, it doesn't matter."

"...I'm sorry..." Slowly, he started to relax again, groaning quietly. "...why does he have to ruin everything?" he grumbled, a little pissed. "I've never slept with him, so it shouldn't get in the way now."

My reaction was to laugh nervously; I had no idea what to say about it. Everything seemed to have the potential to make it worse. Instead, I just ran my fingers through his hair, my other hand teasing the small of his back.

"...he can't ruin being with you too..." He was almost pleading with me, burying his face in my shoulder again.

"He won't, as long as I can cuddle you like this," I murmured, trying to tease but not quite able to. "And then I'll kick his ass if he does."

He laughed a little, but I was a little beyond it being a joke now. "He's bigger than you, Garrett, don't be an idiot." Again, it wasn't meant to be funny; a plea for me not to do anything.

"I'll be good," I promised sourly, setting into the pillows. I'd never hated a person so much.

"Calm down, Gar," he murmured, rubbing the arm I had around him.

I sighed, and forced myself to stop it; I didn't want to ruin the day we'd had.

.

.

Aside from the fact that I was pissed, listening to the waves crash in the background as we fell asleep was soothing. Carlisle had cuddled into me and fallen asleep almost instantly after we'd stopped talking, but it had taken me awhile to calm down and stop my heart racing.

We stayed in bed until lunch time the next day, and my boyfriend had almost entirely wrapped himself around me. I was reluctant to move in case I woke him up; it had started to drizzle outside, and I was more than happy to lie there for a while anyway.

"What time is it?" he murmured after a while. Still half asleep, his words were a little slurred together, and I chuckled and rubbed his shoulder.

"Just after twelve. Since when do you sleep this long?" I teased him.

"Since you're warm and I don't want to move," he mumbled into me, laughing a little.

"That's fine by me. Theoretically, we can stay here until 4:30 tonight, and quickly clean up," I laughed, shutting my eyes and running my fingers through his hair repetitively. I could easily go to sleep again.

"God, I love you." He kissed my jaw, relaxing and falling quiet again.

.

.

It was after two by the time my stomach growling couldn't be ignored any longer. "I'm hungry…" I admitted apologetically.

Nodding, he sat up. "Okay, Gar, let's go get breakfast- uh, lunch, rather," he chuckled. Leaning forward, he kissed me quickly before scrambling around to find his clothing again.

Doing the same, I was still stifling yawning. We made the bed again, and set about tidying any mess that we'd made, before throwing what little shit we'd brought with us into the car. The only food place I knew of was the diner we'd been to the night before, so we sheepishly went back, both of us looking like a complete mess and wearing the same clothes we'd worn there yesterday.

The diner was pretty much empty, and I deemed it okay enough for me to be comfortable enough to hide at one of the tables and eat. The food was fucking delicious, and I had no problem downing my meal. My boyfriend didn't manage to finish his, and quickly fed me what he didn't eat in an attempt to distract me from it. I just let it be.

On the way home, we were forced to stop at the supermarket, seeming as we had no food in the house. It was a chore that had needed to be done a few days ago, to stop us buying takeaways all the time, and there was no way that either of us wanted to go out again after we made it home. I groaned as we pulled into the carpark; it was packed.

Carlisle stiffened as I pulled into a parking space next to an SUV, but said nothing. He took the keys off me when I tried to shove them into my pocket and slotted them between his fingers.

"What's up?" I asked cautiously.

He just shook his head. As we walked in, he kept glancing around, quickly scanning as many of the isles as he could from the position we were in. His sudden paranoia was confusing, but I just grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the vegetables.

"Do we need milk?" I asked for the fourth time. "Carlisle?"

Glancing back at me, he bit his lip. "What?"

"Do we need milk?" I repeated, to which he nodded half-heartedly. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, let's just hurry up…" He stepped closer, reaching for my hand as I held the basket in my other. Still gripping the keys, he looked petrified, and I slipped my arm around his waist. "And yeah, we do."

"Tell me, Carlisle," I murmured, holding me against me.

"When we get home," he whispered back. He was hyperventilating and it wasn't instilling my faith in him.

Giving up, I just nodded and let him go. I was regretting getting a basket instead of a cart, slightly annoyed by how heavy the cans were, when something clattered loudly behind me.

"...Garrett…" Carlisle had his hand on the shelf when I turned around to face him. The crash was the beans he'd been holding dropping on the floor. "...I'm dizzy…" he pleaded.

I quickly set the basket on the ground, jogging forward the few steps to be in front of him. "Sit down, it's okay." I crouched in front of him when he did what I said. "Please tell me what's going on?"

Leaning forward against his knees, he forced deep breaths as he fought passing out. "...my boss is here...I saw his car in the carpark…"

I was instantly on high alert, wanting to find the bastard and lose my shit at him, but Carlisle tightened his hands around my wrists to hold me there. "Have you seen him? Where is he?"

"...with his wife…" Seeing my face darken, he shook his head at me. "Don't do anything stupid. Please, Gar."

Gritting my teeth, I nodded. "Are you okay?"

"N-no...I'm going to pass out…" he mumbled, just in time for a staff member wandered over to us.

"Are you two alright?" she asked awkwardly, hovering.

"No," I told her at the same time Carlisle nodded that he was. "He's not feeling well," I told her, rolling my eyes at him. God knows, he couldn't just get up and walk away, and people were starting to fuss around us. Instead of arguing with me about it, he leaned forward again, starting to collapse. "Hey," I whispered to him, rubbing his shoulder. "You can't faint in the supermarket." He was going to, though, and there wasn't anything I could do about.

The girl hurried away, appearing a few minutes later with her manager and a glass of water. The manger frowned as he watched the situation play out. "If you can stand, you can come and sit in the staff room," he told Carlisle. He looked confused and a bit concerned, and no doubt the last thing he wanted was a scene in his store.

Carlisle jumped at the chance to not do this in public. Leaning against me, he managed to get to his feet, and I quickly locked my arm around his waist to stop him falling again. "I'm okay," he mumbled to me. Still, he was quickly getting upset, though I couldn't tell if it was because he wasn't feeling well, or was freaked out about his boss.

Sitting in the supermarket lunch room, he was clutching the glass of water like it was a life line, his hands shaking so badly he was at risk of spilling the liquid everywhere. His whole body was trembling violently, tears welling up as he tried to drink.

"Breathe, Carlisle," I soothed, standing in front of him and rubbing his shoulders. "If you can't calm down, I'm going to have to take you to the ER." Already, the employees were whispering about calling an ambulance, but I didn't want to freak my boyfriend out more than he already was. "Just take some deep breaths."

Shaking his head, he tried to suck air into his lungs, and I offered the guy who him handed a water bottle instead of the glass a thankful smile. Although I was pretty sure he was humiliated, he was very, very pale, and his cheeks wouldn't heat. "Please don't take me to hospital," he stuttered out eventually. "I just want to lie down, Gar..."

I crouched in front of him, squeezing his leg. "I know, but you're freaking everybody out," I told him apologetically. "People panic when you collapse in public." My attempt at teasing him was lame, and neither of us smiled.

He groaned and leaned forward, hugging my shoulders and resting his head against my collarbone. "...I know...Can't we just lie to them?" he pleaded, his hold on me very weak.

"Well, yeah...but do you think you can stand up again without passing out?" Kissing his cheek, I ran my fingers through his hair.

He still looked terribly pale for someone who wanted to walk, but he nodded and shakily stood up, leaning against me. The few steps he took were unsteady, and I quickly grabbed him again.

I thanked everyone that was helping us, abandoning our shopping - as long as Carlisle made it home, I could come back later for the groceries. I didn't feel safe with him until we were back in the car and his seat belt was fastened around him. "You okay? You're not going to be sick?" I checked, pressing my hand against his forehead. As usual, he wasn't running a fever.

He shook his head. Sitting in silence and zoned out, it was a while before he could think through his actions enough to touch my leg. "I'm really sorry about everything, Gar…"

"It's alright. Is it better now you're out of there?" I closed my fingers over his to squeeze his hand. "He makes you that nervous, huh?"

Shrugging, he wouldn't look at me.

"You had a panic attack?"

"...I guess…"

"And you didn't eat this morning?"

"... _Garrett…_ "

Sighing, I left it alone for a bit, but it was only so long before I couldn't help it. "Does the supermarket make you more nervous than other places?"

"Why would it?" he asked abruptly.

"Because you're weird about eating," I said, blunt with him.

"So are you," he snapped back.

"Not at home, I'm not. We've had this argument a million times, and it's not getting any better, Carlisle. I know you don't want to talk about it, but you've lost a ton of weight since we met, both with your father and with whatever's happening now; it's kind of scary. And don't say you're fine, because you aren't; you're sick - but I don't know how sick because you won't tell me anything." Again Leah's comment was too prominent, and I gritted my teeth in frustration.

"I don't know what to tell you, Garrett! I feel like shit, what'd you want me to say?" Upset, his feet were against the dashboard while he leaned his head against his knees to get away from me.

Sighing through my teeth, I surrendered; we'd had a nice weekend, and I didn't want it to be ruined by an argument at the end of it.

.

.

I took him home, made sure he was sitting down, and then headed out to a _different_ supermarket; there was no way I was going back to the other one any time soon, considering the fuss we'd just caused. Pushing the cart, I decided to pick up a few extra things to give myself time to cool off; an awkward mix of frustration and worry made me irritable with Carlisle, and I didn't think that he could handle me being angry with him; he was too fragile.

I only contained a certain amount of patience.

.

.

Surprisingly, he'd already managed to pull together enough ingredients to make dinner by the time I got home. The rustling of the bags as I brought them in made him turn to face me. He offered me an awkward smile, fidgeting the spoon in his hand.

It was quite obvious he was trying to gauge whether I was pissed at him, and I stepped forward to kiss him gently, squeezing his arm. "What are we having?" I tried to keep my voice light, refusing to end the weekend on a negative note.

"...chilli…? It was the only thing I could make with what was left before you got home, and-"

"Chilli is fine, Carlisle." He relaxed as I hugged him. "Are you feeling okay now?"

"Yeah." His arms found their way around my waist, and I slowly rubbed his back. "...nervous about tomorrow though...don't want to see him…" he mumbled into me.

That was all it took for the anger to rise in me again. My hold on him tightened, and my jaw locked. "If you think he's going to hurt you, get out of there immediately."

"He's not violent; you know that. He's just...overly affectionate…? He doesn't do anything to hurt me." _Not physically, maybe._

My hand knotted around his t-shirt, and I pressed my lips against his neck. I kept my mouth shut as I started to unpack the groceries; the only thing that was going to come out was a threat towards that man otherwise. Once it was done, I just sat at the table, my eyes trained on Carlisle as he finished making dinner. I didn't have to wait long for my food to be in front of him.

He sat across from me, cautiously picking at it; it tasted fine, and there was no reason for hesitance, aside from nerves. His plate was abandoned about ten minutes later, and he mumbled something about showering as he headed down the hallway.

I sighed and leaned my head against my hand. Figuring that he probably wanted space after being attached to me all weekend, I just washed the dishes and put away the leftovers. I wasted quite a bit of time before heading to bed, and by that point Carlisle was already under the blankets.

Instead of sleepy, he looked completely wired. _Anxious._ He shuffled over to me to cuddle into my side. "You're working tomorrow?" he asked softly, his face buried in my shirt as I lay down.

I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. "Yeah, but I'll drive you to your office first."

.

.

The whole drive, he squirmed uncomfortably, hyperventilating and picking his clothing. Everything was 'off' with him this morning; he'd slept in too long, was barely dressed and hadn't had time for coffee. His hair was still a mess, and in all honesty, he looked like shit.

"Hey...if anything happens, call me and I'll come and get you. I'll keep my phone on me the whole day," I assured him. Pulling on the hand brake as I stopped against the car against the curb, I hugged him tightly. "I love you, it'll be okay."

"I love you too...thanks for dropping me off…" Kissing me quickly, he all but fell out of the car and stumbled into his office building.


	56. Chapter 56

**A longish chapter this time! Thank you CentauRita, Goldielover and marleemiller5769 for your reviews and reading my nonsense!**

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That was the first time he came home with bruises. Judging by the expression on his face, he knew I was going to lose my shit, and he refused to look up at me. I was too shocked to yell, though, immediately going to hug him.

"What'd he do to you?" I rubbed his back as he leaned up to wrap his arms around my neck.

"I'm okay...one of the other workers upset him," he mumbled into me.

"He hurt you, though? What are the bruises from, Carlisle?" Growing frantic, I ran my hands over him. I was ready to hunt down that asshole at the first sign of pain.

"He didn't hit me, Gar, he was just too rough when he touched me…" He wrapped one of my hands in his, stopping my panic. "It's okay; I'm alright." His voice was soft and he was trying to sooth me, but he was also struggling to hold back tears.

I cautiously pushed the edge of his shirt up, sighing at the red marks across his waist and around his arms. "You're not sore?" I checked, watching him carefully. Even if he wasn't, he was bloody freezing.

He shook his head. "N-no...I just really want a shower...need to get the feeling of his hands off."

Sighing, I kissed him. For a moment it seemed like he was going to push me away, but it was too late for me to take back the motion; no doubt 'romantic' affection wasn't what he wanted right now. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking-" I started to apologise, but he interrupted me, lightly rubbing the back of my neck.

"Stop it, I love you; you're not him, you can kiss me when you want." As if to prove his point, he brought our lips together again, deepening it and tangling one hand in my hair for a second before pulling back. "But I do really, really want a shower," he admitted.

I reluctantly let him go. There was no way I was comfortable leaving him by himself after the day he'd had, but he seemed to want the alone time. Instead, I just busied myself making dinner; aggressively cutting vegetables would help to disperse some of my anger.

I had the food on the table by the time he came back into the kitchen, but his cheeks were red from rubbing away tears. It was breaking my heart. I just wanted to never let him go again. He came straight to me this time, hugging me tightly and burying his face in my shirt.

"Can you have dinner?" I asked carefully, tracing his spine with my finger tips. It only confirmed to me that he was getting worse.

"N-no...not tonight."

.

.

Nothing seemed the change for the next week, until Friday night. Although he'd been giggly and teasing a few minutes ago, in the time it had taken for me to go to the bathroom, he'd fallen quiet again. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders from behind while he in front of the TV. Focused on his phone, he flipped the screen before I could see it.

I frowned, a little hurt. "What happened?"

He glanced up at me and reached up to pull me down for a kiss. "Nothing, Gar, it's just Caius," he murmured, his lips soft against mine.

I'd never heard the bastard's name before, and my blood was suddenly boiling. "He hounds you when you're not at work?"

Rubbing my arms to remind me not to squeeze him so hard, he nodded reluctantly. "...he texts me sometimes…"

"Show me," I demanded, furious.

"No…"

"Carlisle." I tried to snatch his phone off him.

He shoved it in his pocket and pushed away from me. "No, Garrett."

" _Please_ , Carlisle-"

"So you can do what? Be pissed off the rest of the night?" he counted. "Leave it alone, I don't want to think about it."

"You never want to think about," I grumbled back, flopping onto the couch next to him.

"I have to live with it for forty hours a week; of course I don't want to think about it," he snapped. The hurt in his voice dissolved any resentment I held. "And you hunting down my boss isn't going to fix anything, by the way, so don't even think about it."

Huffing, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him toward me across the couch. We were both worked up; Edward and Bella's wedding was the next day, and although we'd had a couple of drinks to try and relax, neither of us could manage it.

I was beyond anxious; all I could do was go over and over the whole event in my head. In every scenario, I couldn't figure out how I was going to get out of the sit-down meal after the ceremony, unable to stop thinking about how I was going to vomit and cry in front of a group of people I desperately wanted to accept me. Already, my throat was too tight, and I knew I had to be careful not to take it out on my boyfriend. It wasn't his fault that I was stressed.

Without warning, his hand landed on my chest, gently teasing my sternum. "It'll be fine, Garrett," he murmured softly. "I'm not going to make you sit through the dinner - I don't think I can either - so don't worry about it." He shuffled around to face me, burying his face against my neck.

I slipped my hand under the back of his t-shirt, wanting the feel of his skin against mine. "I just can't wait until we're home again."

"Me neither...I'm so nervous…" he admitted.

"I know, in twenty four hours, it'll all be over."

.

.

The ceremony was going to be inside, but it didn't stop Carlisle from being uncomfortable about the temperature. Under the white dress shirt, he'd managed to hide another, tighter-fitting t-shirt, wanting to maintain some warmth. His suit jacket wouldn't give him any actual shelter, and it was making him anxious.

His fingers brushed my wrists as I stood in front of him and he fastened the buttons on the sleeve cuffs of my shirt. The slightly ill-fitting garment felt better as he tugged the hem of it down, smoothing my collar and fixing my tie. "Ready?" he asked, offering a tight smile. It didn't reach his eyes like it used to, but I leaned down to bring our lips together anyway.

"Yeah…" Not really.

Standing on his toes, he slipped his arms around my neck, kissing me gently. His weight shifted against me as he leaned forward, trying to pull me down a little bit while his hand rested against my cheek, the other teasing the nape of my neck. "It's still okay that we stay with your parents tonight?"

I nodded, digging my fingers into his waist; the temptation of messing up his perfectly-styled hair was killing me, but I didn't dare. Pressing kisses against his neck as he tilted his head back, I knotted my hands in his clothing and pulled him hard against me. "Yes, I spoke with mum this morning." Seeming as the drive out there was so long, we made the decision to stay the night at my parent's place; they were fairly close and it would save us the round trip.

The anxiety didn't leave his face, but he nodded despite it. "Okay, then. Tell me when you've had enough at dinner, and we can bail."

"I'll be fine, Carlisle." It wasn't me that I was worried about at that moment; I could last until dinner before I freaked out, but he looked so exhausted he was dead on his feet. Repressing a sigh, I just linked our fingers together and led him out to the car.

.

.

It had been nearly a month since we'd last seen anyone, and I was hyper aware of Carlisle not wanting to be anywhere near them. He'd even managed to cut Alistair out after a while, and it resulted in his best friend stalking over for a hug the moment he saw us.

"Avoiding me, are you?" he teased, squeezing him. The interaction was a little too rough, and my boyfriend let out a quiet gasp of pain as he was knocked. His hands immediately became more gentle, frowning as Carlisle's face flushed. "What?"

"...nothing, Alistair…" he mumbled, resting his head on his shoulder as he caught his breath. The faint colour in his cheeks wasn't healthy, and he already looked uncomfortable. "I'm fine."

"It's good to see you, but you look like crap, should you even be here?" In a somewhat mothering gesture, he pulled his jacket closer around him.

"They're getting _married_ , Al, it's kind of important," he reminded him.

"I know, but...jesus, Carlisle, you really do look like shit."

"Thanks." He rolled his eyes, grumbling. Stepping back until he was at my side, he glanced up at me. "Should we go in?"

I took his hand, kissing his cheek. "If you're ready."

.

.

We stood as the music began to play, and I instinctively wrapped my arm around Carlisle's waist as he faltered slightly. The last thing we needed was for him to faint during the ceremony. I was trying to figure out how I could get him out quickly if I needed to, but we were in the middle of a row, and there was no way we could push through without making everyone else move.

I was only half aware of the bride in the aisle. She was gorgeous, of course, but I couldn't focus on anything other than the short, panicked breaths my boyfriend was taking. It was a relief to be allowed to sit again, and I placed my hand on his thigh, squeezing genty.

The colour had drained from his face, and he threaded his fingers through mine. "I'm okay," he whispered to me.

I wasn't sure whether I believed him or not, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I just wanted to go home. It was making me lightheaded too.

He kissed my cheek and leaned his head against my shoulder as they said their vows, wrapping one of my hands in both of his. "I love you," he murmured.

"I love you too." My pulse started to calm as I leaned my chin against the top of his head. Although I doubted that either of us would ever want a traditional type wedding like this, it was a cute idea to entertain for awhile. It made me a little less claustrophobic.

Someone in front of us shushed us for talking, and it set Carlisle off giggling, trying to hide it by burying his face in my shirt. I bit my lip to smother a smile, letting go of his hand to rub his back.

"You're going to get us in trouble," I teased.

"If they kick us out, we can go home," he teased back. It was only half a joke; we'd both jump at the chance to leave.

"It'll be over soon, Carlisle."

.

.

After a few hours the exhaustion was really starting to wear thin on both of us. People made polite conversation with me, but only after finding that Carlisle was too distracted to respond. He had barely slept the night before, and I knew he was feeling pretty awful. He managed to pull it together enough to wander off when someone called him over, but I was instantly in a panic once he let go of my hand. Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I sat down at a table.

My stomach hurt, I couldn't hear properly, and my whole body was sore from being so tense. Everyone around me seemed too loud, and I found myself unable to repress a grimace as a waiter carried out dishes to put on the table. I frantically glanced around the room for my boyfriend, desperate for him to come back.

When he did return, I took one look at him and knew it was time to go. As much as I wanted to curl up somewhere and have a complete meltdown, Carlisle looked like he was going to hit the ground at any moment.

He looked up at me before I could say anything. "Garrett...I gotta go home…" he mumbled, stumbling into me as I reached for him. Having him in my arms was comforting and made me feel a bit better.

"Yeah, okay, let's go." The panic was still hard to smother, and I was swallowing tears, my hands shaking; there was no way that I was arguing with him.

"Are you okay?" he asked me softly, threading his fingers through mine. "You don't look good, Gar?"

"Y-yeah...I just want to go home too," I told him. Squeezing his hand, I suddenly didn't care if anyone thought we were weird.

He nodded, wandering over to Edward and Bella to say goodbye. They hugged us both and didn't seem upset at all, but I still felt like shit for leaving. It looked like Carlisle did too. He grabbed Alistair's hand on the way out, pulling him toward the door with us. "Al...We're going home," he told him apologetically.

He looked backwards and forwards between us, then sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair. " _Please_ tell me you're not traveling all the way back to the city tonight?"

My arm found it's way around Carlisle. "No, we're going back to my parent's place; it's only half an hour or so."

Alistair still didn't look comforted. "Both of you are a mess; who's driving?"

We glanced at each other; we hadn't decided that yet. I jumped in before Carlisle could. "I am." Seeing his frown - worry more than annoyance - I nudged him a little, forcing a smile. "I don't want you passing out behind the wheel," I tried to tease, soothing any sting. Thankfully, he just smiled tiredly and leaned into me.

"Jesus," Alistair grumbled. "One of you text me when you get there, so I know that I don't have to call search and rescue to pull you out of a ditch." He shrugged apologetically when Randal called out to him, squeezing my shoulder and briefly hugging Carlisle as he went back to him.

.

.

By the time we got in the car, Carlisle was shivering quite a bit and clearly freezing. I flicked on the heaters, subtly pointing them at him while he wasn't looking. "You okay?" I asked, rubbing his leg. He felt cold through through the fabric and I knew I needed to get him in bed.

Nodding but unconvincing, he tried to smile. "Yeah…"

"Do you want my jacket?" I frowned, already starting to pull it off. I would overheat soon anyway, and I'd rather he was comfortable.

"You'll freeze, Garrett…" he pleaded as he started to fidget.

"No I won't; I've got more meat on me than you do." My attempt at teasing was half-hearted; both of us were feeling like crap. I ignored his protest, wrapping it around him anyway. At least it was heading into summer; I hoped the change in weather might make him more comfortable, even if the rest of the country was sweating.

Driving in the dark was making him carsick. We weren't that far from my parent's place, but he was getting paler and paler, having unconsciously wrapped his arms around his stomach. I was watching him carefully, but it wasn't instilling my confidence in him at all.

"You okay?" I asked cautiously.

"...sick…" he mumbled, almost unwilling to open his mouth to speak to me.

"Are you going to make it to mum and dad's?" It was only a few more minutes, although I didn't think that made difference to him at that point.

He nodded. Swallowing hard, he glanced over at me, almost desperately. "How much longer, though?"

"About ten minutes. Do you want me to stop?"

"...um…"

"I can pull over, Carlisle, I just don't want you to throw up."

Watching his lap, he shifted uncomfortably and bit his lip. "...I'm okay, I'll just wait…"

.

.

We must have looked like quite a state pulling up outside of my parents; Carlisle, dizzy and pale, and me, frustrated and worried. I held him closely against my side as I knocked on the door, and he leaned into me. Despite the jacket, he was freezing.

The longer the door stayed closed, the more anxious he was becoming. "Are you sure-" he started, almost in tears and shivering violently.

He was interrupted by the door swinging open, mum smiling at us. "Come in, you two." Her smile started to fade as she led us into the kitchen, and she turned to look at me. "Have either of you eaten? Do you need dinner?"

Unable to deny that I was hungry, I guiltily agreed to eat. I glanced at Carlisle, but he just looked ill.

Mum didn't need to be told, warming up a plateful of food to me, and ushering us to sit down. She gave Carlisle a glass of juice, unable to leave him with nothing, briefly touching his shoulder. "You okay, love?"

"Yes, thanks, Sasha," he told her with a forced smile.

"It's been a long day," I explained, my hand on his leg under the table.

.

.

He really wasn't comfortable being at my parent's house for this long. Glancing at the clock every couple of seconds, the darkness outside was making him nervous. There wasn't much I could do to ease the tension and it was made even worse by my father sitting in the room with us. I was praying simultaneously that Carlisle wouldn't have a panic attack, and that dad wouldn't trigger him.

My father was watching us, frowning though it wasn't in disapproval. He eventually couldn't stand the silence anymore. "Have you ever been camping before, Carlisle?"

I repressed a groan; this wasn't a topic of conversation that was going to end well for either of them.

Looking a little startled that he was being spoken to in the first place, it took him a few seconds to respond. "...no, not really...?"

"Come with us in the summer; we go to a nice spot next to lake - hiking and fishing all day. You won't have seen much of the US countryside?"

Again, he just shook his head, too shy to look up and just wanting to go to bed. That was the end of their conversation, and silence filled the room again. Mum laughed as she came in, rolling her eyes at how awkward we were being. She turned the TV on to put us out of our misery.

I couldn't have cared less about making my father uncomfortable; I couldn't keep my hands off Carlisle any longer. We were both beyond fragile by that point, and the second I reached for him, he shuffled over to be against me. I fidgeted with his shirt while he fitted himself against my side, his head on my shoulder and his arms around my middle. He didn't seem to care about dad's reaction either.

"With how tired you two look, anyone would think it was _your_ wedding," dad commented during an ad break in the show.

"Feels like it," I grumbled, stifling a yawn as Carlisle offered him a weak smile. I reached over, rubbing his leg and taking his hand, but I could see that he'd had enough. I awkwardly cleared my throat. "It's been kind of a long day, dad; I think we'd better go to bed." When I glanced at Carlisle for confirmation that that was what he wanted, he offered me an apologetic smile. I stood up as my father bade us goodnight, pulling him to his feet.

By the time we got to the top of the staircase, I was well aware of how cold my boyfriend still was. His hand was trembling in mine, and his fingers were freezing.

"Do you want to shower? It might warm you up," I suggested, stopping outside of the bedroom door to face him. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realised my mistake; he was far too nervous to want to do that.

He hesitated, silently debating it for a few seconds. "...Can you come with me?" he asked hesitantly.

My initial reaction was to jump at the chance, but I was suddenly very aware of our proximity to my parents. I couldn't refuse him though. "Yeah, okay. Come on." Mum had left towels out for us already, so I grabbed them off the bed and took him into the bathroom. I locked the door behind us while he turned on the water, but we were both glad to be out of the uncomfortable formal clothing.

I hugged him once we were under the water, loving having him in my arms but hating how fragile he felt. "Are you okay?" I asked carefully.

Nodding, he leaned up to kiss me. "I will be once we're in bed." The statement was entirely innocent; he was far too tired for anything else.

We stayed in the shower until he couldn't stand up any longer, and I could feel faint warmth under his skin. I wrapped a towel around his shoulders as we got out, placing a soft kiss on his lips. The few minutes that it took for us to get dry and back into the spare bedroom felt like an eternity while he was looking so unstable.

"This was your bedroom when you were a child?" he asked as we got dressed.

"Yeah; they took the old furniture out years ago, but the curtains and the wall paper are still the same. I spent _way_ too many hours playing video games up here." I sat on the edge of the bed, catching his hand and pulling him toward me, holding his waist once he was close enough.

He ran his fingers through my hair, leaning down to kiss me and falling forwards as I lay backwards. "Your parents have lived here a long time, then?"

I nodded, unable to resist a smile. "They moved here when Eleazar and I were little kids. I guess they don't want to let the place go...I never thought it would be boys that I was sneaking up here to make out with, though," I teased him.

Laughing, he rolled his eyes. "We're hardly sneaking; your parents let me in your front door." This time, the kiss was a little harder, lasting longer, and his fingers teased the back of my neck. He let go and crawled under the blankets as I pulled them back, settling uncomfortably beside me.

"Try and relax, Carlisle," I pleaded, squeezing him against me. "It'll be okay; we can go home in the morning."


	57. Chapter 57

**Sorry the updates haven't been regular, I'm still working on it and I've been sick, but hopefully they will be weekly again soon. Also sorry for any grammer mistakes :)**

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My mother and I made breakfast together the next morning, and it was a nice throwback; we used to cook together every Sunday before I moved out of home. Staying the night had reminded me how much I enjoyed being with my parents, and I suddenly missed being with her like this. Guilt washed over me as I thought about how little time I'd actually spent with them over the last year; I used to see them a lot more before I'd found somewhat of a social life.

"You know, the first time Carmen stayed the night here, your father made her and Eleazar sleep in different rooms," mum chuckled, pausing and watching me fry the eggs as if it was the most enthralling thing she'd ever seen; she must have missed this too.

I laughed and rolled my eyes. "They were also in high school."

She stepped closer and lowered her voice, setting plates out on the bench. "I guess so. I won't tell him that you and Carlisle showered together, though." My face flushed, and it was obviously the reaction that she wanted because she was giggling to herself. Her laughter subsided after a moment. "You two are so attached to each other...you really love him, don't you?" she mused.

"Of course I do. I thought you did as well," I grumbled.

She put her hand on my forearm, forcing me to focus on her. "I do, Garrett, he's a sweet boy. I just wasn't sure if you were serious about him, is all; your father and I wondered if he was, ah, _experimental_ for you, rather than long term."

I groaned, hoping like hell he was still out of earshot. "He's not; I love him more than anything. And _please_ don't say that around him; he doesn't need something else to worry about."

"I won't, love, don't worry." Her silence only confirmed to me that she was building up to the next question, and I was suddenly very concerned about the eggs to avoid it. "Do you think you...that you'll marry him?"

"One day," I answered slowly, not wanting her to get ahead of herself.

It made her smile all the same. "You two look lovely dressed up together. I'm glad you've got him, Garrett, it's nice that you and your brother are settled."

Carlisle's situation was far from settled, but I couldn't tell her that. "I really missed you, mum." I hugged her once she was close enough, smiling as her arms wrapped around my middle. She was littler than I remembered, and I was hit with a wave of sadness; my parent's mortality wasn't something that usually crossed my mind.

"I miss you too, Garrett," she chuckled. "You know you're welcome to come and see us anytime, and Carlisle too." I held onto her for a little while longer, but she pushed me back, chuckling. "But you're burning the eggs, honey."

Trying to shake any dark thoughts out of my head, I swore and grabbed the pan to take it off the heat. My heart was beating too fast now, and I started to get a little nervous about where Carlisle was; I hadn't seen him in a while.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly. Deeming me incapable, she took the pan from me and finished dishing up, shaking her head.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. I just...missed this."

"Go and get your father and your boyfriend," she instructed. I almost laughed; it was never a sentence I would have expected her to ask me, until a year ago.

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My mother was immediately frowning as Carlisle refused breakfast. "You didn't eat dinner, either."

He shrugged helplessly, folding his arms and ducking his head. "...I'll eat at home, Sasha…"

"Really, Carlisle? I know what you're like at home." Although she was speaking firmly, I knew she was worried rather than mad. But I wasn't sure that he knew that.

Frozen, he hesitated for a second before giving in, desperate to escape her disapproval. He let her put a plate full of food in front of him. Silently panicking and too shy to refuse, he just ate it.

As much as I wanted to stick up for him and remind him that he didn't have to, it was too much of a relief to see him eating a decent meal. I left it alone instead.

The conversation around the table was comfortable, for once, although Carlisle didn't speak. I held his free hand under the table, squeezing his fingers reassuringly whenever he looked up at me. The meal seemed a real effort for him to force down, but he was doing it.

Dad was intent on talking camping and fishing, 'boy talk' apparently, but my boyfriend was about as interested in it as I was. Eventually, he just chuckled. "You'll like it, Carlisle, I promise. And if you don't, I'm not mean enough to torture you in the middle of the woods."

The boy in question gave him a weak smile and quickly looked back at his breakfast.

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I really didn't want to leave my parents. I hadn't realised how badly I missed them, until I'd had the opportunity to be with them for so long. They didn't seem to want us to go either, and I didn't feel quite so bad about staying while dad was being nice.

Despite looking exhausted, Carlisle still nodded and agree to play board games with them when mum asked, forcing a smile at me when I pulled him into my lap. "Thank you," I whispered to him, kissing his neck quickly.

"I'm not taking you away from your family, Garrett," he whispered back. Being close to me seemed to make him more comfortable, and he was happier with my arms around him. My parents said nothing, so I kept him sitting there as we set the game up.

I caught mum smiling at us several times, and dad politely ignored our affection. We stayed long enough to be invited to lunch, mum somehow managing to get Carlisle to finish another meal. I think he just didn't know how to refuse. "Will you boys stay for dinner?" she asked hopefully.

I glanced over at my boyfriend, trying to gauge how much he could handle. After an awkward pause, he spoke before I could. "If you'll have us, Sasha," he teased, squeezing my hand tightly. The anxiety didn't leave his face, though.

Her eyes lit up as she smiled. "I'll make us dessert as well," she decided happily.

I pulled Carlisle into the hallway once they were distracted, locking my arms around him. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" I asked carefully.

"I know how much you miss them, Gar, I'll be alright," he assured me, kissing me gently. He slipped his arms around my middle and leaned into me. Despite being close to me only moments before, the heat had left his body already. My parent's house was warm and they had the fireplace lit, but it didn't seem to be any help for him.

"I love you. Tell me if it's too much." I kept my hands soft as I brushed my fingers through his hair. "Did you sleep okay? You look tired…" 'Tired' was an understatement.

He smiled weakly. "I'll cope."

After our conversation this morning, my mother seemed even more intent on including him. For the first time, I had to come to terms with her attempting to embarrass me in front of my partner, barely able to resist cringing as she did the most stereotypical mothery thing she could think of, and pulled out old photo albums. I could have easily gone another few years before Carlisle was exposed to pictures of me as a chubby kid.

"You and your brother were so cute, Garrett," she sighed, smiling at the pages.

I glanced at what she was focused on, grimacing. It was some awkward christmas photo, where the two of us had been forced to smile for the camera while we wore itchy sweaters. "' _Were_ '?" I grumbled. She just rolled her eyes.

Carlisle laughed and grabbed my hand as I tried to walk away. "I still think you're cute, Gar."

.

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His reassurances that he was 'fine' didn't abate his nerves by dinner time.

"Eat up, love." My mother's eyes were trained on Carlisle, watching him pick apart his meal without putting any in his mouth. "It'll help you regain whatever weight you lost while you were sick." Her heart was in the right place, but there was no way he was eating now. It would also explain why she'd been forcing food down his throat all day. That my parents had noticed the state he was in made me slightly uncomfortable.

Panic flashed across his face, and he ducked his head as his cheeks heated. "Yeah...thanks, Sasha..." To please her, he shoved a mouthful of vegetables between his lips, trying to appear calm about it. The meal was too large, and there was no way he was comfortable being faced with that much food with what he was going through. Still, he had a good go at it.

Mum was smiling as she watched him, pleased as he finished most of what was there. She didn't seem to notice the tears welling up, or the way he repetitively touched his stomach to balance the discomfort. "Dessert?" she asked, starting to clean the table to make room for the next round of food.

Carlisle dizzily stumbled to his feet, mumbling something about going to the bathroom and leaving before I got the chance to comment on it. I counted the minutes until he came back, but as ten rolled into fifteen and his custard melted in his bowl, I couldn't stand it any longer. I traced him to the closed toilet door, knocking quietly. "You okay?" I asked softly through the wood.

"Y-yeah...be alright in a minute," he told me shakily.

"Can I come in, please? Unlock the door?" I tried the handle, on the off chance he hadn't locked it, but he had. "Carlisle? Let me in?"

"Go back to your family, Gar..."

"You don't have to eat anything," I reasoned with him. "Just don't hurt yourself." Although I was keeping my voice low, I did worry that my parents might overhear, and I really didn't want them poking at him for answers.

There was a pause, and then he gave in, the quiet click of the lock indicating I could get to him. He opened the door before I could, and we were suddenly face to face.

"You've been sick, haven't you?" I sighed. "You made yourself sick..."

He refused to look at me and kept his head down. "...sorry..."

Hugging him tightly, I kissed his neck as he buried his face in my shoulder. "Are you okay to stay for a bit longer? Or I can take you home now, and tell mum that we have to go?" I ran my fingers through his hair, wanting to reassure him that it was okay, but he didn't look that comforted. Instead, he looked like he was going to throw up again. "Carlisle?"

"W-we can stay..." he mumbled, leaning into me. "I'm really sorry, Gar..." His fingers stayed tightly in mine as we went back to the kitchen table, and he squeezed my hand ever harder once he was looking at our plates again. Despite looking ill, he started to each et, spurred on by my parent's watching him.

I silently prayed that he wouldn't freak out again, but I could already see it happening. Running my hand up and down his back, I silently tried to comfort him.

Mum misinterpreted his expression. "Do you want something else, honey? I can get you-"

"Water, mum, please?" I asked quickly, watching him swallow thickly and trying to decide whether he was going to pass out or puke. The blood was draining from his face, and I didn't trust him not to come apart.

"You alright, Carlisle? You're rather pale, kid," Dad murmured, already starting to stand up. "Sasha," he said quickly.

It was too late, though. My boyfriend's hand was suddenly limp in mine, and he started to fall, the dizziness taking over. "Carlisle," I murmured, wrapping my arms around him as he leaned forward and pushed his bowl away. "Shit."

"What's happening?" Dad asked frantically, watching me fussing.

"He has blackouts; he's just not feeling well," I explained quickly, keeping a firm hold on him.

"Does he need to lie down?" Skeptical, he was hovering like he was waiting for him to hit the deck.

"Y-yeah, maybe." With my arms locked around him, I pretty much dragged him to his feet and into the lounge, sitting him on the couch and crouching in front of him. "Breathe, Carlisle," I murmured, kissing his cheek and hugging him the best I could while he was so unbalanced. "Lie down?"

He did as I asked, pretty much collapsing onto the seat next to him. "...Gar..."

"I'm right here," I assured him, squeezing his hands. "Just stay there for a bit." Behind me, I was very aware of my father standing there, watching what was happening. The only good thing about the whole situation was that Carlisle was too out of it to know what was going on, losing consciousness for a few seconds at a time and not really lucid when he was awake. I didn't get a response when I asked him if he wanted to drink, and I hugged him again, wanting to reassure him if he did happen to be more awake than I gave him credit for.

"Does he need a doctor? I can call an ambulance?" Dad asked, unable to conceal his panic.

"No, no it's okay," I told him quickly, shaking my head. "He won't go to the hospital; it'll only freak him out."

His frown deepened. "Does he have health insurance? If it's a money thing, then your mother and I can cover it; he's sick, Garrett."

"Thanks, dad, but this happens a lot; if we sent him to hospital every time this happened, he'd never get out of there. He'll be okay soon." I moved to sit next to him on the couch, holding my hand against his forehead on the off-chance he might have a fever, but he was fine. It made him fidget, though, and I squeezed his shoulder. "You're alright, Carlisle." Just don't freak out.

Mum was fussing again, coming in with a blanket and water but unsure how to actually touch him. "Is he allergic to something? What's wrong with him?"

"He has blackouts sometimes; he's okay," I repeated, starting to get nervous. Their panic was making me panic, and I desperately wanted Carlisle to wake up enough to tell them that he was alright himself. I shook his shoulder gently, wanting to force him awake. "Finish your food?" I suggested to them; I doubted my boyfriend wanted them standing over him like this.

It was high time that we should go home, and as soon as Carlisle was stable enough to stand up again, I was pulling him toward the front door. Mum was frowning again as I hugged her goodbye, her eyes flicking from me to Carlisle. He was distracted, fidgeting and uncomfortable. "Are you alright, love?" Her expression didn't soften when he nodded that he was.

"...Sorry, Sasha…" he mumbled, unable to glance up at her.

She just frowned and hugged him, but stopped last minute and moved to wrap her arms around me instead. "He looks like he still doesn't feel good," she whispered to me, like she thought that there was some way I hadn't noticed that yet.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. "He's just tired, mum," I assured her. "We need to go home." Talking about Carlisle while he was right next to me felt awful, and I hated doing it to him, but he was so zoned out I wasn't sure that he knew anyway.

My mother sighed and nodded. "Alright, you two. Come visiting again soon, when you're feeling better."

I just agreed and steered my boyfriend toward the car. He seemed to feel safer once we were on the road again, and I reached over to rub his leg. "Try and sleep now?" I suggested; we had a three hour drive ahead of us, and there was no point in him being awake and feeling terrible.

Nodding, he pulled his legs up, resting his head against the window. I turned the heaters on in hope of it making him sleepy. It seemed to work; he fell asleep a few minutes later.

An hour passed, and Carlisle slept through both the radio being on, and me humming semi-obnoxiously along to it out of boredom. I started to notice him looking uneasy again, suspecting that mum was right, and he was going downhill again. The sooner we got home, the better.

"Garrett, can we stop?" he asked suddenly. It scared the absolute shit out of me; I hadn't realised he was conscious again.

"Yeah, what's the matter?" As my heart rate came down again, I reached for his hand, finding he had both arms wrapped around his middle. "You scared the crap out of me," I chuckled.

"My stomach hurts," he pleaded with me. "Please…"

"We're not far from a rest area," I assured him, rubbing his leg. "You okay?"

He shook his head. "N-no, I- please can we stop now?" The words seemed to tumble out of him without him wanting them to, and I fought to calm him down again. It looked like he was having a panic attack, and it really didn't surprise me considering the weekend we'd had.

"We're on a highway, Carlisle, it's not safe," I pointed out. I risked a glance away from the road at him; it was pitch black outside, and we were going to get rear-ended if I pulled over here.

He looked horrifically uncomfortable. "I-I know, but-"

Seeing how anxious he was, I gave in and ran up the curb, trying to get the car far enough off the road that we were safe and flicking on the hazard lights. The vehicle had barely stopped before he ripped open his door, throwing up onto the grass. It gave me a bit of a fright and I took a few seconds to respond. I unbuckled my seatbelt, but couldn't get out of the car because of the oncoming traffic, awkwardly rubbing his back from where I was sitting instead.

After the attack was over, he leaned back against the seat, trying to catch his breath and running his fingers through his hair to get it off his face. His cheeks were hot, and he still didn't look very well, but I was fairly confident that he didn't have a virus.

"Mum made you eat too much, huh?" I sighed, reaching in the backseat to grab a water bottle for him. It had rolled under the seat, and I couldn't reach it, giving up instead. I hugged him as he nodded, tracing circles against the small of his back was he leaned into me. "Are you okay?"

"...feel better now…" he mumbled.

"I can drive again?" I checked, not wanting to start if he couldn't handle it. Although he told me it was alright, I was cautious about it.

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"...I'm going to quit my job…"

The car had been silent for the best part of an hour, and his whisper made me jump. I risked a glance away from the road at him. "Good," I sighed in relief. Seeing the uncertainty on his face, I reached for his hand, squeezing his fingers.

He was shivering despite the heaters being on. "...I think he's going to be upset with me, though…"

"Who cares, Carlisle? He's the one that's been hurting you; he can go to hell."

"Yeah, but I don't want him to freak out at me before I leave."

"Do you have to tell him? Just talk to the head of the company, and leave?" I suggested.

He nodded slowly, thinking about it. I knew from his silence that he wasn't done with the topic. "...He wants me to spend my birthday with him…" His voice broke and he looked over at me, fidgeting anxiously and quite clearly freaking out. "I-I can't, Garrett- I don't know what he's going to do, but he's being so weird it and keeps mentioning it a-and I don't want to be near him-"

I interrupted him. "Don't go in that day; just stay home. It shouldn't matter anyway, if you're quitting," I soothed. I worried about that day for a different reason - I didn't know what I was supposed to do with him; in all likelihood, he wasn't going to want to get out of bed if he did stay home, and I didn't want to force him into anything that he didn't want to do. "It'll be alright, Carlisle."

His hold on me tightened exponentially as he swallowed thickly. "I don't know what this is going to mean for us, Gar...If I have to go back to London until I re-apply for citizenship-"

"Then we'll figure out how long distance relationships work, or I'll come with you for a bit." The thought of being without him made me sick but I could deal with it if our separation meant that he was safe when he came back to me.

"I can't ask you to do that, it's not fair."

"You're not asking me to do anything; I can't be without you. We're not breaking up because some asshole can't keep his hands to himself."

That made him laugh a little bit, though the sound was sad, and he snuck his free hand onto my thigh. "I love you so much."

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	58. Chapter 58

We started going for walks in the mornings. I had no idea how Carlisle managed to convince me to leave the house before 7AM, but it might have had something to do with him buying me coffee on the way home each time. The fresh air seemed to calm him down a bit before work, and I liked that it gave us a chance to be together before we both got busy. I'd been working extra hours to try and stockpile a bit of time off for later on, but it meant that I hadn't seen much of him.

It had taken a few days for him to gather up the nerve to send his resignation to the CEO of his company, nervous about what Caius might say, but so far nothing had come of it. He'd had to give three weeks notice before he could leave for good. So far, his boss had behaved - as much as he ever did. I knew that there were still kisses and hands where they shouldn't have been, and that he was still making my boyfriend feel like crap, but Carlisle never said anything to me about it.

Carlisle seemed happier now he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. He slept better and wasn't in so much of a state when he got home each day. It was a start, but he was so sick by now that it was going to take a bit more than a few days rest for him to get better. Not working would be good for him.

As usual, he refused to let me pay for my drink at the coffee stand, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek as he passed it to me. "Ready to go home?" he asked, reaching for my free hand.

I nodded as I took a sip of the sweet liquid. He didn't have to ask what my favourite drink was before he ordered it, which meant a lot to me, and I opted to slip my arm around his waist instead of linking our fingers together. It didn't escape my notice that he wouldn't drink anything other than water. "Two more weeks, Carlisle," I murmured as he leaned his head against my shoulder. "And then you're away from him forever."

"I can't wait," he groaned, his voice muffled by my sweatshirt. "He's so damn weird; he knows I'm leaving - I think, anyway - but he never yelled at me about it, and he's been so sickly sweet, it's disgusting; I know he must be angry with me."

"At least he's not hurting you." I rubbed his side and squeezed him gently as we reached our apartment steps again.

He nodded slowly as we got into the elevator. "Yeah. Shower with me?" A shy smile tugged at the edge of his lips, and a flush of warmth washed through my body.

"We'll be late for work," I warned, pushing him up against the wall and leaning down to kiss him. It was a miracle that I didn't drop my cup, really. I forced myself to be slow with him, fearing seeing any worry or hesitation on his face.

He just laughed and wrapped his arms around my neck. "It's just a shower, Garrett, we'll manage."

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I felt great for the rest of the morning. To the point that I walked into my office with a smile on my face. Riley grinned and looked me up and down as I came in the door. We'd spent a fair amount of time together recently, and I liked him a lot; he was the first real friend I'd made for myself that wasn't my boyfriend. I ignored him, and went to my desk, only for him to follow me.

"Carlisle's feeling better, then," he commented, trying to be casual but struggling not to giggle.

"He's quitting his job," I told him. My hope that it might distract him enough to get off the topic was quickly verified, as he flopped into the chair next to me.

"His boss, right?" he frowned. He had a vague idea of what had been happening, though I knew Carlisle would kill me for telling him.

"Yeah, he's done there in a few weeks. Thank god; I'm not sure how much longer I can go without wringing that assholes neck," I grumbled under my breath.

Riley squeezed my arm, shaking his head. "Don't say that, Garrett, just leave it."

"I know," I groaned, rubbing my face. "He just makes me so angry; it's killing me that someone can do that without any consequences - especially to Carlisle."

Silent, he thought for a moment. "Then why doesn't Carlisle press charges? He'd win the case, surely."

It was a conversation I'd had over and over again with him, but my boyfriend wouldn't budge on it. "He's too nervous, I think," I sighed. "And he doesn't want to draw it out any longer than it has to be; he just wants it to be over."

He forced a smile. "Do you two want to come over for dinner, when he's feeling better? Like a double date with Victoria and I? She wants to meet you guys." Victoria was his girlfriend, and I found myself nodding against my better judgement.

"I'll...I'll talk to Carlisle about it," I promised. My anxiety must have shown, because he nudged me.

"If not dinner, maybe coffee?" he suggested. "I know you are up to that, seeming as you go on little dates every morning."

I let him laugh at his own joke for a while, trying to bite back my own smile, before nudging the wheels on his chair with my toes so that he rolled backwards away from me. "Exercise before breakfast is supposed to be good, isn't it?"

"I'm sure Carlisle got some vigorous cardio this morning," he laughed, unable to help himself. Unfortunately, it was then that he lost it completely, giggling until he couldn't speak.

I was laughing by default at his red cheeks and inability to breathe. "If you don't shush, I'll roll you out the window," I threatened through gasps for breath.

"It's his birthday soon, isn't it? You were whining that you didn't know what to get him, maybe you should-"

"Shh," I pleaded. "Don't say whatever you're about to in an office full of people." My face was hot, and I fought to calm down while everyone settled around us. 9AM was fast approaching, and Riley slunk off to his desk and left me at peace to stifle my laughter. The woman next to me rolled her eyes as she sat down, but it didn't affect my good mood.

.

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I texted Carlisle on and off throughout the morning, but he only replied periodically anyway. Seeming as Caius was being semi-reasonable, I didn't worry quite so much. The bastard should have been fearing for his job by now; if he put a hand on him, it was only going to take a word to his superior to land him in hot water.

That was enough for me to be confident enough to stroll up to their office at lunch time. I knew for a fact that Carlisle hadn't taken food with him this morning, and I hoped bringing it to him might encourage him to eat - especially if I was supervising. I sent him a text to tell him I was coming, but I never got a response.

I was smiling again as I climbed their front steps, looking forward to seeing him. Never having to come into this building would be a good feeling. I wasn't about to climb thirteen bloody flights of stairs, so I headed straight to the elevator, briefly smiling at the office clerk. He rolled narrowed his eyes at me.

The doors binged open on the right level, and I wandered down the hallway. I'd only been up here a few times, but it was familiar enough for me to know the lay out of the offices, and I quickly found my way to Carlisle's desk.

He jumped as I dropped the bag of food in front of him, immediately smiling as he glanced up at me. The way his face lit up when he saw me made my heart flutter like it did when we first met.

"Have you had your lunch break yet?" I asked.

Catching hold of my shirt, he pulled me down to gently kiss me. "No, I was just about to. Want to go now?" He smiled hopefully. "I'll just tell-"

" _Carlisle!"_ The voice was loud enough to make me jump, and my boyfriend recoiled in his seat, scrambling to get to his feet.

"I-I'm going to go on my break now," he told him, swallowing thickly. Stepping around me, he edged closer as to not be yelled at in front of everyone. It was a bad move; Caius grabbed his arm, his fingers digging hard into his shoulder as he dragged him toward his office.

I didn't know what to do. Part of me thought that he would just scold him and let him go, but the force that he used against him clearly indicated that he wasn't about to. I pushed my way into the office before he could lock the door. It wasn't until I saw the jealousy in his eyes, that I realised that this was all my fault.

"You aren't having this; what did I tell you about eating at work?" he growled, snatching the bag out of his hands and tossing it into a trash can. "You do what I say, when I tell you to, are you too stupid to understand that?" As he screamed in his face, Carlisle cringed back, clearly shocked at the sudden turn of events. His fingernails were so deeply in his arm, there was no way it wasn't going to bruise.

"Caius, you're hurting me…" He pulled at his hand, trying to ease the pressure. It seemed like a conversation they'd had before, perhaps one that had worked in Carlisle's favor, but this time it only spurred him on.

"You should have listened, and then I wouldn't have to-"

"Leave him alone." I shoved him back before I realised what I was doing, breaking his hold on my boyfriend and pushing Carlisle back a few feet. He held onto my hand, getting nervous.

The brute of a man frowned angrily, rolling his eyes. "You're the _partner_ , then?" he growled. His glare seemed to pierce right through me, and his sour breath washed over my face as he attempted to loom over me. We were very similar heights, and it was wasn't working in his favour at all; he couldn't push me around as much as he could Carlisle. Everything about the guy was defensive, and I was fairly certain he would have decked me if we weren't in such a public place.

Carlisle panicked as soon as his boss stepped closer to me. Somehow, he'd managed to hide his fear until now, but it bubbled over suddenly. "Stop it- stop, Caius," he pleaded, wrapping himself around one of my arms and trying to tug me back.

His eyes zeroed in on his face. "You love him?"

Trembling beside me, his hands tightened. "...It doesn't matter…"

"You love him, but you won't love me? What does he have that I don't?" he snapped.

He didn't answer, watching the floor so he didn't have to make eye contact. "Can I go now?" he asked eventually.

"Are you going to kiss me goodbye, like you normally do, or are you too shy in front of your _boyfriend_?" he teased, clearly pissed.

There was a tight pause between them, while Caius and I stared each other down. I was well aware that I wasn't intimidating in the slightest, but I was mad enough not to care. "He doesn't have to," I snapped at him.

"He will, though," he grinned. It was menacing, and he was looking over my shoulder now. "Won't you, Carlisle?"

After an uncomfortable silence, Carlisle gave in, stepping between me and him and quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. Caius turned his face so their lips met, grabbing him roughly and groping him through his jeans. "Get out. And don't go bringing your guard dog in here again; there will be consequences if it happens again," he told him dismissively. "I don't want to see you for the rest of the day."

"If that's a threat, then-" I started, only to be cut off by Carlisle snatching my sleeve and pulling me away.

"Let's just go," he mumbled.

"Carlisle," I protested, trying to pull back. "He can't just do that to you whenever he damn well pleases-"

"It doesn't matter; I'm out of there in two weeks. When are you supposed to be back at your office?" Thankfully, he didn't seem to blame me, tightly holding my hand instead.

I squeezed his fingers. "In a few minutes. Are you alright?" Stopping once we were outside, I held his wrist, pushing up his sleeve. Sure enough, that man's talons had left an inflamed handprint on his arm. All I could do was hug him.

"Yeah, I'm okay." He walked with me to my building, despite it being in the opposite direction of home.

"Don't cook dinner, we can get takeaways. Please just go home and sleep," I pleaded, kissing him quickly. "I'll give you my keys, and you can-"

"It's fine, Garrett, a walk will be nice," he interrupted. His fingers were soft as he pulled my jacket closer around me, but his hands still shook.

We'd been for a walk already this morning, but I didn't remind him.

.

.

I bought a couple of pizzas on the way home, hoping that what Caius had said this afternoon hadn't been enough to make Carlisle want to punish himself. The shower was running when I unlocked our front door, but his phone was vibrating insistently against the table top. Out of curiosity, I glanced down at it as I set the pizza boxes next to it.

I wished I hadn't; I saw red as his boss's name flashed up on the screen. Unable to stop myself, I opened the text, my hands shaking with rage as I saw what Caius had sent him.

I was beyond furious, scrolling through weeks worth of absolute filth. Sometimes, the texts were sweet, just casual 'good mornings' and nonsense, but the rest of them were far too graphic to be anywhere _near_ okay. Fuck, I would have been uncomfortable receiving them even if they were from someone that I loved, but to have them from someone you feared was horrific. Carlisle hardly replied to any of them.

As the water shut off, I was forced to set it down, not wanting to be caught invading his privacy like that; I knew he'd be mad at me. The phone went off again as I went back to the bench, and I gritted my teeth.

He wandered back into the kitchen a few moments later, wet hair and ready for bed, and briefly glanced at the lit up screen. Somehow, he found it within himself not to smash the damn thing, and calmly swiped the text away instead. So the bastard rang him.

 _That_ made him panic. He quickly rejected the call, only for it to go off in his hand again. Visibly conflicted, he eventually gave in and answer it. His hands shook the whole time, and he moved away from me so that I couldn't overhear anything.

It didn't make me any less angry, and I was battling the urge not to snatch it off him. Answering it in the first place seemed so insane to me, I couldn't figure out why he'd done it. "Caius?" I asked bluntly, ten minutes later when he'd managed to hang up.

"Y-yeah…" he mumbled shakily, avoiding eye contact.

"Why the fuck did you answer it?" I snapped.

"Because I don't want to be yelled at in front of the office tomorrow morning," he snapped back.

"What'd he want?" It didn't console me at all. Although I was mostly concerned, part of me was mad at Carlisle for being stupid enough to pick up when he didn't have to.

"I don't know-"

"You just spoke to him!"

"I don't know, Garrett! To make me feel like crap in my own home? To make you pissed off at me? Maybe he just wanted to jerk off, how the fuck should I know," he yelled back, suddenly defensive.

"I'm not pissed off with you; it's him that I'm-"

"I'm the one you're shouting at!" It hung heavy in the air for a few seconds, and all the anger slowly seeped out of my body as his eyes welled with tears.

"Carlisle…" I reached for him, but he shrunk back, shying away.

"I'm going to bed," he mumbled.

"Come have dinner," I argued meekly. Regret crashed over me; this whole afternoon had been a mistake.

"I don't want it," he said abruptly. "You heard Caius, anyway."

"Stop it," I warned. Having him yell at me was a new experience, but I'd started it, so I wasn't sure how to reprimand him. "I'm not upset with you, so don't snap at me. I didn't mean to raise my voice, sorry."

"I'm going to bed." This time, it was final, and he stalked away from me. Our bedroom door closed loudly - not quite a slam, but enough for me to know I wasn't welcome.

I groaned and sat at the table, leaning my head against my hand. The pizza was slightly cold now, but was I pulled a slice out of the box anyway; it was better than sulking about Carlisle. After I'd finished my food, I stalked over to the couch. I was pretty sure I'd only get snapped at if I went anywhere near him for the next while, so I grabbed a spare blanket out of the hallway cupboard and lay on the couch. The TV provided a bit of a distraction, at least.

.

.

I woke up again just after 1AM. It was late enough that infomercials played over and over again, and I jabbed at the TV remote until it switched the screen off. The weather still wasn't nice enough for the single blanket to provide enough warmth, and I rolled off the couch; even if he was still awake, going to bed couldn't be more uncomfortable than lying on the sofa any longer.

The door squeaked as I pushed it open, and I winced. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I pulled my shirt over my head, wanting to be comfortable. Carlisle shifted as the mattress dipped under my weight. I ignored it.

"...Garrett...? I'm really sorry...can I hug you…?" he asked softly, almost shy.

I smiled out of relief. "Yeah, come here." Lying back, I locked my arms around him, the tension leaving my body as he moulded himself around me. "Two weeks, Carlisle."

"...two weeks…" he mumbled.


	59. Chapter 59

**This is the third version of this chapter rip**

 **.**

I almost rejected the call. There would be a world of trouble if I was caught answering it during office hours. But with everything happening, I couldn't do that to him. "Hey, I can't really talk to now, what's going on?" I asked quickly, walking toward the bathroom in hope of appearing a little more casual about it. If he'd waited twenty minutes, then I would have been on my break and it wouldn't have been an issue, but Carlisle knew that, and the fact he'd chosen not to wait made me panic a bit.

"The CEO found out- someone told him, and Caius thinks he's going to be fired, and he's blaming me," he told me in a rush, freaking out. "I don't know what to do, Gar, I really want to leave, but I'm scared he'll stop me...he's pissed, and I don't want to be near him…" He sounded close to tears, and I could hear that he was frightened. Still, I doubted Caius would do anything too drastic to him; they were still in public, and his superior obviously already knew about it.

I cursed under my breath, glancing at the clock again. "Just walk out, Carlisle. He can't touch you."

"I can't, Garrett…You know what he's like…"

"I can take you home at lunch, it's not much longer," I assured him. "Don't go anywhere near him, if you're that worried, it'll be alright."

"...Can you stay on the phone with me?" he pleaded nervously, his voice shaking.

Groaning, I looked at my watch a second time, like somehow I could leave immediately. "I'm sorry, Carlisle, I really can't. I'll call you as soon as I can, but just stay away from him." Hanging up hurt, even when he told me it was okay, and I went back to my seat. It was the longest twenty minutes of my life, and I forced myself to calmly walk down to my car.

.

.

Carlisle's work building was very quiet when I reached the right floor, and everything appeared normal, despite my heart drumming in my ears. I'd called him several times on the way over, but he hadn't answered. It wasn't keeping me calm at all. He wasn't at his desk, where I'd hoped he would be, and I tried not to be suspicious as I peeked around the corner at Caius's office. The door was open, and that eased my anxiety a little; even if he had Carlisle, he couldn't try anything if everyone else could see it. I didn't dare creep close enough to see who was in there, though.

Confused, I called him again, only for his phone to go off in earshot but be unanswered. Wandering back toward the lobby, I asked the receptionist about him. She just rolled her eyes.

"He was in trouble, last time I heard."

Nibbling my lip, I sighed and went back to the office. It was on a gut feeling that I tried the bathrooms. The door was locked, and my nerves prickled. I felt sick as I asked the woman about a key, faking needing to pee, and she was visibly confused about it being locked in the first place. Still, she gave it to me without question.

Part of me suspected that I might be about to scare the shit out of a janitor, because who the hell else locked the entire toilet block as opposed to a cubicle, but I did it anyway. I barely got a foot in the door before seeing red.

Caius had him jammed against the wall, one hand pinning Carlisle's hands above his head while the other was pressed over his mouth. Neither of them noticed me come in, and I slipped my keys between my fingers, stalking toward them.

"Get off him, you sick fuck." The closer I got, I could see that there had already been scuffle, and that Carlisle was already bruised and his clothing was torn. His eyes locked on mine, and he tried to get his hand off so that he could speak to me. Tears dribbled down his cheeks as his attempts to defend himself become weaker. His fingers ripped into the bigger man's arms, deep gouges torn into his cheek from my boyfriend's normally gentle hands.

Caius glanced back at me too, rage contorting his face. "I told you not to call him, didn't I? Are you _scared_ of me, baby?" he sneered, his fingers squeezing tighter and pushing against his throat. Carlisle's lips were faintly blue now, and his struggles were half-hearted and feeble."You should have kept your mouth shut; you'll be sorry if you've fucked my career up." Without warning, and before I could get to him, he roughly threw him to the ground. A sickening crack sounded across the room as Carlisle's head hit the sink on the way down, but he ignored it, his foot crushing his rib cage as the metallic sound rang out.

I screamed.

Carlisle didn't. He didn't move.

"Get away from him!" Pain shot through my hand as my fist connected with his nose, and blood immediately poured onto the floor. My knuckles burned as I braced myself for his retaliation, but he stumbled back, stunned and clutching his injury.

"I'm calling the police," he gurgled past the blood filling his throat. His shout for help was directed into the office, as though he expected someone else to come running to his rescue. _Good fucking luck._

"Do it," I snapped at him. Every inch of me wanted to go to Carlisle, but some primal instinct wouldn't let me take my eyes off of the predator, who still lurked against the opposite wall. Refusing to look away, I barely resisted digging my keys into his eye sockets.

"I've done nothing wrong; he wanted it," he growled. That end of my self-control. I knew the fucker was baiting me, but I couldn't stop myself.

My keys dragged as they slashed into his flesh, and we both slammed into the wall as my full weight hit him. I wasn't any fighter, and he quickly shoved me off him, sending me tumbling backwards towards Carlisle. My feet skidded in blood on the linoleum as I fought not to fall on him.

Crimson pouring from his face, Caius limped out of the room, cursing me and yelling to call 911 at the top of his lungs.

"Carlisle- Carlisle, are you okay?" Kneeling next to him, I gently rubbed his shoulder, trying to keep him awake. Someone opened the door behind us, and I was instantly ready to lash out. The woman in the doorway just smiled awkwardly. "What?" I asked sharply, beyond pissed at that point.

"Do either of you need an ambulance? The police are on their way, but are you hurt?" she questioned, hovering. For minor injuries, there was a lot of blood on the tiles, and she looked slightly faint. _Idiot._

I barely resisted a snarky comment. "Yes- he just beat the shit out of him, _yes_ we need an ambulance." Through my rage, I was barely aware of Carlisle trying to squeeze my fingers in an attempt to keep me calm. I ran my thumb across his knuckles, leaning down to press a kiss against his cheek. "What's hurting?" I asked, feeling his body tense over and over again. My eyes were burning; he must have been in agony, and I couldn't help him. It was a bit of a dumb question to begin with - everything must have been painful at this point.

He mumbled that his back hurt, but was holding his arm around his chest like he was scared of it being knocked. "I-is he gone?" he asked tiredly, too out of it to have heard what the woman had said to me.

"He's gone," I assured him, brushing his hair off his face and pressing my hand against his forehead. I hoped the coolness of my palm might help him to stay conscious - he looked like he was going to pass out. "Someone called the police; he won't be here much longer."

Now, he looked terrified. "...What if they want me...I don't think I can get up," he pleaded. "I can't move, Garrett- if they want me to stand up-"

"They aren't going to want that, calm down," I soothed, sure that my heart was breaking. "There's no way you'll be in any sort of trouble for all this. Did he hurt you before I got here?"

The question reduced him to tears, and I wanted to throw up.

.

.

It was another hour before we were safely in the emergency room. The tension started to release from his body as they pumped morphine into him, and the collar they'd secured around his throat to stop him moving didn't seem to bother him at all as he zoned out. Seeing him in so much pain was almost immobilising, and I could barely function past wanting him in my arms.

"Don't sleep, Carlisle," I pleaded. Running my fingers through his hair probably wasn't helping to keep him awake, but I couldn't hold his hand, seeming as one had been stuck in a splint and the other had an IV shoved into it, and I wasn't ready to break contact with him.

He coughed and then winced, and then coughed again, needing to sit up but not allowed. Giving up on that, he tried to free his arm to rub his face. "...lights are so bright in here…" he mumbled, the most coherent he'd been since we reached the hospital. "...sucks…"

"You hit your head really fucking hard." The laugh that came out was to hold back tears. Noticing him start to fidget, I rubbed his hand, wanting to calm him down. "Careful," I warned, stilling his fingers.

Suddenly, his eyes filled with tears again, starting to panic. "When do you have to go back to work?" I could hear that he was terrified, trying hard not to cry but about to anyway.

It was well over two hours since my lunch break had finished, but I didn't tell him that. The deed was already done anyway; I had sighed out for the day. Unable to face my boss, I called Riley instead, quickly giving him a run down on what had happened and then sending an email to my company when I was too much of a coward to face them. "Jesus christ, Carlisle, I'm not leaving you after that. For god's sake." I wouldn't be able to work anyway; I was going to throw up if I had to leave his side. The reassurance of being able to see that he was still breathing was all that was keeping me together.

"...y-your hands are bleeding…" he mumbled, voice shaking. "...h-he hurt you too…"

"No, no, I punched him; I hurt myself," I corrected. "Don't worry about it now, I'm fine. Let's just get you fixed up first." It didn't calm him at all, and I shifted to sit on the edge of the bed. My hand had barely brushed his thigh when he flinched violently, jumping away from me. We were both shocked, neither of us expecting him to have that reaction. The motion caused all number of monitors to come loose, setting them off beeping and screaming, and a nurse running into a room. She looked confused at the chaos, gently correcting everything before trying to calm Carlisle..

"You need to keep still," she murmured. "There's x-rays that need to be done before you can be moving around." Thank god, she wasn't accusatory; I didn't need someone else to snap at today. The mention of x-rays made my stomach clench painfully.

My hands were starting to throb now that I wasn't scared of that man harming him anymore, and I open and closed my fists several times to disperse the feeling. "Will he get to come home tonight?" I asked her softly, catching her arm before she could leave.

She looked apologetic. "Most likely not; he has a bad concussion; he'll be here for a while yet."

I just nodded, glancing at him to see if he'd heard. Unfortunately, he had, anxiously looking up at me. "I'll stay here as long as they let me," I assured him, trying to smile.

.

.

For the next few hours, he went through rounds and rounds of scans. The pain relief helped calm him, but made him feel so sick that he didn't want to move. I prayed he wouldn't vomit; at the very least, he had cracked ribs, and the pressure of it would have been awful. The beeping monitors were so monotonous that I was drowning them out, and all I wanted was to hug him, but I could barely touch him without causing pain. He'd settled down a while ago, but I couldn't get my mind off of Caius.

"What'd he do to you before I got there, today?" I asked carefully, nervous to hear the answer as it made him immediately anxious. The way he reaction to me touching his clothing had freaked me out, and I desperately wanted him to disprove my suspicion.

"...not what he wanted to…" he mumbled. Seeing the expression on my face, he backpedaled a bit. "I-I don't want to talk about that here, Gar…"

"I know, Carlisle, but did he…" The word seemed too harsh for me to bluntly ask him, and I struggled to find a way to soften the question. Instinctively, I reached for him again upon seeing that he was upset.

My hands on him made his breath catch in his throat, but he allowed the contact this time. "Please leave it, you came in before he could get any of my clothing off, please just drop it…"

"If nothing happened, then you wouldn't be so jumpy," I reminded him, settling for rubbing his fingers.

"He's so invasive- I can't help it…" Pleading with me not to be mad, he tried to hold onto me, only comforted when I leaned my elbows against the bed to be close to him. "Nothing happened, I don't want to think about him anymore."

I sighed through my teeth and nodded, surrendering. It was after seven PM now, and we were both tired. My phone was beeping insistently in my pocket, but I ignored it, knowing I wouldn't want to speak to whoever it was anyway. Carlisle's fingers were cold in mine as he fought not to fall asleep.

When the curtain moved behind us, I glanced over my shoulder expecting a nurse. Riley offered me a guilty smile, holding up a couple of containers. "Victoria didn't want you two to starve yourselves; she made casserole and thought you could use some," he told me, coming to sit in the chair in front of us.

Although it sounded good to me, and I realised that I hadn't eaten since breakfast and it was nearing twelve hours later, Carlisle quickly pressed his good hand over his mouth. His IV pulled immediately, and both Riley and I winced. "Go- go and eat with Riley," he told me in a rush.

"Are you going to be alright by yourself-" I started, but he cut me off.

"Yes- please take it away," he pleaded, struggling not to be sick.

Not wanting to stress him out even further, I kissed his forehead, smiling apologetic at my co-worker and leading him away. We could sit in the cafeteria; it would be quiet by that time of night, and it was close enough to Carlisle that I could get back to him in a few minutes, if I needed to.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't realise that he was-" he apologised immediately as we started walking, clearly worried.

"It's not your fault, Riley, he's had morphine, and it's making him feel like crap," I explained.

"Is it weird, me being here? Should I go?" he asked, hesitating. "If you just want to sit with Carlisle, I totally understand. I didn't mean to barge in..."

I shook my head. "No, I'm glad you're here. I don't know what to do, honestly...it's nice to have something familiar."

Without warning, he hugged me, holding me there for a few seconds before he let me go. "Are they letting him out tonight, do you think?"

"...I don't think so; he needs the pain relief too much, and he hit his head pretty hard, so they want to keep an eye on him...Thank you for coming, Ri..."

"I'll drive you home when you want to go, then. And our boss was fine with your email; I went to talk to him, and he's not upset with you for having to leave." That was a relief; my car was still parked at work seeming as I had come in the ambulance with Carlisle.

"Oh my god, you're a lifesaver," I groaned guilty, letting him pass me a container of food as we sat down. Automatically, I glanced around to see who was near us, and my stomach hurt a bit.

Riley did the same, frowning and reaching over to squeeze my forearm. "We can go somewhere else, if you feel weird here...I know you don't eat at work at all, and..."

My face flushed at his observation; the only other person who'd ever been tolerant about my food related issues was my boyfriend.

"Here is fine." Raking my fingers through my hair so hard it hurt seemed to help calm me down, and I forced a couple of deep breaths. I knew I had to eat, considering that I nagged Carlisle about it so intensely.

Riley took the lid of a container and slid it across the table to me. "Is he okay? Do they know what's happening with him yet?" He was sweet enough not to watch me eat, which I'd be forever grateful for.

The semi-warm meal burned as I swallowed. My stomach almost rejected it as I thought about Carlisle, but I managed to keep it down as I shook my head. "No, they haven't told me anything...they think he has broken ribs, a-and I don't know what to do with him...can't even hug him…" I mumbled at the food. "They're going to admit him overnight, and I already miss him…" The thought of it made me want to cry. That wasn't going to happen in front of my co-worker, though, no way.

"You could stay with me, if you wanted?" he offered, touching my hand to remind me to keep eating.

"Thanks, Riley, but I just want to go home," I admitted. Feeling sorry for myself, the only person I wanted to be around was my boyfriend.

"That's okay, just tell me when you want to go." Despite his smile, he still looked worried.

.

.

Riley stayed with me until the doctor decided to send Carlisle up to a ward, and visiting hours were well and truly over. It was almost midnight anyway. The continuous beeping still sounded in my ears once I was out in the street, and the weather had turned nasty, rain pelting our backs as I ran after Riley to his car.

"You okay? They'll look after him," he murmured as we caught our breath in the vehicle.

I nodded slowly; I couldn't exactly tell him otherwise. The lump in my throat wouldn't shift, and I just wanted to go to bed. "Thanks again for coming, Riley...and for bringing me home."

"Are you coming to work tomorrow?" He hugged me goodbye as we pulled up outside of my apartment block, and I repressed a sigh. His frowned only deepened when I shrugged. "Please don't, Garrett. Either stay home, or go and be with Carlisle; don't come in to the office."

I just nodded and thanked him _again_ , dragging myself out of the car. I ran straight up stairs and in the front door, barely having enough time to shrug off of my clothes before throwing myself into bed.

The whole house felt hollow. Curled up in bed, I sent Carlisle a couple of texts on the off chance that he was still awake, but desperately hoping he wouldn't see them until the morning. The bed was colder without him, and I wasn't used to sleeping without someone wrapped around me. It was going to be hard to get any rest.

.

.

I woke up the next morning to a message from Carlisle, telling me that he'd been sent to a ward and what was happening. It didn't make me feel any better for leaving him by himself, but as everyone kept reminding me, he was an adult. Even if I wanted to wrap him in cotton wool.

Not wanting to bother Riley again, I caught the bus to the hospital once it wasn't ridiculously early. I felt sick as I waited for the elevator to reach the right floor; I had no idea what kind of state my boyfriend was going to be in, or whether he'd managed to sleep at all last night. He was always so anxious away from home, I couldn't imagine it going well.

Despite the urgency I'd felt rushing there, I hesitated before going into his room. Stupidly, I felt like I should knock or something. A nurse saw me and chuckled under her breath. "He's fine; you're allowed in there," she told me.

I nodded, and tried to force a smile. It fell instantly. Something about the sight of my Carlisle with an IV shoved in his arm, the other tightly bandaged, almost forced me to tears. Not wanting to wake him up, I quietly sat in the chair next to the bed, unable to help reaching over to touch his hand. It didn't seem to disturb him at all, and I guessed they'd loaded him up on some kind of drug during the night.

He was awake the second he tried to move, the pain tearing him back into reality. "H-hey..." he managed to smile when he saw me, his fingers tightening around mine slightly.

"Are you okay?" I asked, trying not to let on how worried I was. It was a really dumb fucking question; he was literally in hospital.

He must have known, because he nodded despite the state he was in. "...you look like shit…"

"Says the person with a drip in their arm." I hadn't expected everything to look so much worse tonight; the collar might have been gone, but it was replaced with dark marks everywhere he'd been held.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" The genuine worry in his face almost made me laugh; adorable idiot.

"For a couple of hours. Don't worry about me, Carlisle, jesus." I watched him as he tried to shift, helping him free himself from the blankets when he couldn't manage it. The brace on his arm made my heart ache. "Your wrist is broken?"

"...shattered...I landed on it I think...and my ribs…" he admitted. "I missed you, Gar...want to come home…"

"I want you home too." Shuffling closer, I ran my fingers through his hair to get it off of his face, leaning forward to kiss him carefully. "When do you think they'll let you out?"

"Not for a few days," a doctor murmured from behind me, making me jump as they came into the room. "You have internal bruising, which we need to keep an eye on, and a form of whiplash; you'll be staying here until we're confident your stable." His hands were everywhere as he took his blood pressure, shone a light into his eyes, ignoring the discomfort on his face as he poked and prodded him. "Breakfast will be here soon; we also need to manage your weight. Your injuries wouldn't have been as severe if you were healthy."

His face fell immediately, pink rushing to his cheeks as he looked down. "...not hungry…"

"You'll be here longer if you refuse to eat, Carlisle, even if your stomach is hurting."

Part of me was glad that someone else was concerned. He couldn't get away from it if doctors thought there was something wrong too. Perhaps hospital wasn't a bad place for him to be after all. Even if he looked like he wanted to be sick. "It's okay, we'll manage," I whispered to him as the doctor left a few minutes later. "We'll deal with anything that happens."

Swallowing hard, his hand tightened around my fingers. "...the police came to see me last night; they want me to press charges against Caius for everything…"

"And you don't want to?" I frowned, already knowing that we were going to argue about this later.

"N-no...but I'm going to...I don't want him to hurt anyone else."

"He'd better bloody lose his job, before anything else," I grumbled, leaning over him to hug him as much as I could. He buried his face in my shoulder, already stressed about it.

"...this sucks…"

 _Understatement of the century._


	60. Chapter 60

**It's been far too long since the last chapter, but I'm not entirely sure what help it off. Anyway, here it is, and I apologise in advance for any mistakes that I've missed. Thanks for sticking around for 60 chapters!**

* * *

Carlisle had given me the unfortunate task of telling Alistair. It wasn't like he could get away without mentioning it; his recovery was going to take too long, and there was no way in hell that his best friend wouldn't notice the bandages. It had taken a day before he'd realised that and given in.

Time seemed irrelevant after sitting in the hospital for a while. The hours dragged into each other, and people came and went, but before I knew it, it was dark outside again and I was being kicked out. My car was one of the last left in visitor's portion of the hospital car park, and I assumed the nurses felt sorry for us, seeming as I had been allowed to stay well past visiting hours had ended.

Despite it being rather late again, I called Alistair as soon as I reached the hospital car park. The time was going to annoy him, but I wasn't going to get any sleep if I tried to leave it until the morning. God knows, I desperately needed to sleep by that point.

"What?" he groaned as he answered. He'd tried not to snap, but his reply was a half-asleep complaint. At least he made an effort, I guess.

"Hey, Carlisle's in hospital," I told him bluntly. Thankfully, my voice didn't shake. It shocked him into silence for a few seconds.

"What'd he fall over now?" he grumbled eventually, trying to laugh but starting to sound a little worried. In the background, I heard fabric rustle, like he was dragging himself out of bed. The humour left his voice when I didn't laugh. "Is he okay? What happened?" There was a concerned note in his voice that I hadn't heard before, an almost parental one.

I suddenly wasn't sure what to tell him. "He's safe; he'll be on the ward for a few days, I think," I told him slowly. Thinking about everything made my head hurt; going back to an empty home was very unappealing while my boyfriend was stuck here for who-knows-how-long.

"Yeah, but what happened?" Defensive now, he sounded agitated. "Garrett, what the fuck? Don't call me in the middle of the bloody night and then not tell me anything." Apparently, he didn't deal well with worry.

I ignored that he'd snapped at me, well aware of my behaviour the day before when people had tried to help us. It still didn't seem like a good time to bring up the whole ordeal with his boss; I assumed Carlisle had never told him what was happening, and talking about that now was only going to keep him up all night too. "He was assaulted yesterday at work, and he'll be okay, but he's hurt," I explained. The phone line fell quiet again and I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel, squeezing my eyes shut.

"... _Assaulted_?" Now, his voice trembled and had lost its volume. "Is he alright? Should I come now-"

"No, Alistair, he's fine," I interrupted. There was no way I wanted to deal with his panic as well. "Well, maybe not fine, but he's stable. The doctors want to watch him before they send him home, just to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"...jesus...he didn't get stabbed or anything, right?" he asked softly. Another voice murmured that he should get back in bed, but he didn't respond to them. "Assaulted meaning…?"

"No, no weapons. He was beaten up, but it could have been worse, I guess." It didn't feel like it when it was the person that you loved, though, especially when that person was Carlisle.

Alistair must have thought the same, because he let out a tight sigh, groaning though his teeth. "He's really okay?"

"Yes, I wouldn't lie to you about that." It seemed to calm his nerves. We hung up, and I drove home, stopping to get takeaways on the way. Eating might have been unappealing, but it was also compulsory, and I knew I'd feel worse if I skipped dinner. It was a weight off my mind that Carlisle wouldn't be able to get out of it once the doctors decided to put their foot down about it. They'd let it slide today, but had assured me that it wouldn't continue that way.

.

.

Back at work, I could barely function. I got nothing done and couldn't think past getting to my boyfriend at the end of the day. The hour or so I would get to see him before being told it was too late to be there wasn't enough, and I knew it would only make me worry more. I still couldn't resist it. Certainly not while Carlisle was in such a state either. Aside from the pain, he was bored shitless, somehow managing to not complain about the whole experience.

After three days of forced bed rest, barely being able to move without supervision was quickly frustrating Carlisle. For the time I was with him, he pretended that he was okay, but I could see it wearing thin. His back hurt whenever he sat or stood for too long, so the only thing he was really able to do was read and sleep - which theoretically should have been the best thing for him.

It wasn't until I was there when dinner was served that I realised how much he was actually struggling. Holding a knife and fork was almost impossible while his hand was bandaged, and watching him eat was painful. He would never finish it at this rate; it would either go cold, or he'd need to lie down again before he was halfway done. Just getting anything on the fork at all using his left hand seemed to be a struggle. "You really don't need to be watching this," he mumbled, accidently dropping the cutlery and wincing at the sharp scrape it made against the plate.

"Let me cut it for you?" I suggested, slowly pulling the tray toward me so I could get to it.

"I hate this," he whispered to me, unable to make eye contact. "I feel like a child. I can't even get dressed by myself; I can't lean forward at all...hurts to breathe…" The last part was supposed to be a joke, but I had no doubt that it actually did. He fumbled to manage the fork again once he had his plate back, quickly becoming disheartened.

"If you get really stuck, Carlisle, I can-"

"No- you're not feeding me," he interrupted abruptly, his cheeks heating. "I'll do it."

I nodded, not wanting to make him feel more awkward than he already did. "Okay." It didn't stop me getting frustrated on his behalf. The only thing I wanted now, was him in my arms. "Is the food okay here?" I asked to distract us both.

"It's as nice as you'd expect mass-made meals to be," he tried to tease. "It's not quite as good as your cooking, though."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not." Seeing how discouraged he was, I shifted to sit on the bed beside him, gently squeezing his leg. "Hey...It's not forever; you'll be out of here soon."

"...just want to go outside for a bit…" he mumbled. "It's claustrophobic being inside all day." The next bite he shoved between his lips seemed to hurt going down. It was dark outside now, so there was no way he would be allowed, and he'd only get cold anyway. If he could even tolerate walking that far.

I waited until he'd finished eating what little he was going to, and then carefully wrapped my arms around him. I don't know what I had expected, but he felt even more fragile that he used to. "I love you, Carlisle."

"...love you too…" Moving obviously hurt him, but he shuffled closer to me and wrapped his good arm around my shoulders. It was only after I turned to face him and pulled him into my lap that he managed to relax. "Thank you for staying with me…"

"I sure as hell wouldn't be doing anything else. I can stay until you fall asleep, if you want?" I brushed my fingers up his body, frowning at the feel of the tape against his ribs. Sitting like this couldn't have been good for him anyway. He'd had pain relief before dinner, but it was wearing thin now, and he was biting his lip to fight the discomfort. "What shall we do for your birthday?" I asked to distract him.

"I just want to go home, Gar, I don't care about that. Besides, I can't move anyway; we can't do anything...I want to be at home with you again…" _Homesick._

I didn't fight him on it; it made sense he didn't want to think about it right now. We could postpone a date or something for later. Instead, I ran my fingers through his hair, hugging him as gently as I could. "Lie down," I murmured, sliding him off me and back against the bed. The colour had drained from his face and he looked dizzy now. "You feeling okay?"

He nodded, keeping a tight hold on my hand as best that he could. "...tired…haven't done anything, but I'm still tired…" The smile he tried to give me was shaky and wouldn't stick.

"That's because you're supposed to be in bed. I told Alistair, by the way.".

"I don't know what you said, but he thought I was dying," he teased. "He came to see me a few days ago, and pretty much had a panic attack because the police were here."

I chuckled and kissed his forehead, but my smile quickly faded. "What's happening with that? They have arrested Caius?"

He nodded. "Yeah...and you broke his nose, by the way." That brought on a small smile.

"Good," I grinned, rubbing his fingers. "The bastard deserved it." The worst I'd come out with was bruised knuckles.

.

.

I'd hoped like hell that he would have been discharged before his birthday. Instead, he'd had police coming in and out all week, and the doctors were reluctant to let him out while he was struggling so much. It was breaking my heart to see him so miserable. It fell on a Saturday, so at least we could spend a bit of time together, even if it was confined to a hospital ward.

"Happy birthday." Sitting on the edge of the bed, I wrapped my hands around one of his, squeezing gently and setting a card on the bedside table.

He smiled weakly, but couldn't make eye contact. "Thanks, Gar..."

"You okay? I'm sorry you're stuck in here." If it hurt for me, it must have been worse for him. I had no idea how to make it better, though. There was a quiet knock on the door, and an officer entered. He was vaguely familiar, and I wonder if he was the same guy who'd delt with me when my car had been rear-ended. He smiled upon seeing that I was there and looked to my boyfriend to make sure it was okay.

"I need him to stay, Charlie," he mumbled, his hold on me tightening.

The officer nodded. "Alright. Caius hasn't contacted you again?" he asked. "We've documented everything he sent you in case we need it for the trial." He hesitated, his frown deepening a little. "He was released on bail last night, so he is out now."

Carlisle's reaction wasn't what I had expected. Instead of freaking out, he just nodded. "He's left me alone...he won't know where to find me, anyway…he probably knows my address though; I don't want him to do anything to Garrett."

Charlie looked at me, troubled. "Do you feel unsafe?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "No, he'd have to break into both the apartment building, and into our apartment to be able to get to me. Will I...I retaliated, am I in trouble as well?"

"No, it was self defense," he assured me. "If he comes anywhere near either of you, I need to know immediately. I'll leave you two alone now; happy birthday, Carlisle."

I nodded and Carlisle mumbled a thank you as Charlie headed for the door. "You're really not worried about him being out?" I asked carefully. His emotions didn't make sense to me, but at this point, it didn't matter.

"He can't get to me while I'm here." His fingers weaved into my clothing, tugging me closer. "...Can we go out? Please? I don't want to sit here all day a-and..." That was all he'd begged me for over the last five days, just wanting to get out for a bit. I knew he wasn't sleeping well, and that the pain wasn't well managed, but he didn't complain about it. The only thing he was outwardly upset about was being locking indoors.

"Do you think you'll be allowed?" I asked carefully; it wasn't fair to keep refusing that. "You want me to ask the nurse?"

He nodded. "...please, Garrett...I want to get out...just for a bit..."

Standing up, I pressed a kiss against his cheek, rubbing his shoulder. "Okay, Carlisle, stay here a minute." I knew I was going to have to fight the nurse on it; I highly doubted they'd let him walk out of here. Still, I steeled my nerves and approached the woman in charge. She was surprisingly sympathetic, carefully weighing the decision and eventually given in. Perhaps being a model patient was paying off.

She followed me back to him, giving him the rest of his medication and disconnecting his IV. "You need to be back here before dinner, though," she warned. Her words were more directed at me than him. "And if you worsen, you need to come straight back."

I assured her that we'd do as we were told, and helped Carlisle wriggle into his jacket. The effort left him exhausted and out of breath, frustrated tears welling up. "It's okay," I murmured to him, crouching down to tie his shoes so he didn't have to bend forward. Standing up, I hugged his shoulders, letting him lean against me. "It's alright, don't stress about it now."

The first few seconds he was on his feet, he was very wobbly and I didn't trust him not to fall. He was determined, though, holding onto me and the railing until we got onto the street a few minutes later. "It's nice to be outside," he told me breathlessly. His hand immediately found mine, squeezing softly.

I frowned and slipped my arm around his waist, keeping it on his hip so I didn't squeeze him. "Sick of being locked inside already?" The teasing didn't work; it hurt me too much to see him this miserable.

He didn't answer. His silence continued until the end of the street, when he stumbled into me and almost fell. I roughly caught him, both of us wincing at his sharp gasp of pain. "I can't do this- it hurts too much," he burst out, fighting back tears. "...I just want to go home…"

Sighing through my teeth, I kept my arms around him. "I can...I could take you home now for a bit, if you wanted?" I suggested slowly, trying to figure out the logistics of it.

He glanced up at me, suddenly hopeful. "Can we?" he asked softly.

Gently bringing our lips together, I nodded. "If that's what you want." I had my doubts that he could make it to the carpark without coming apart, and he kept himself very close against my side like he was afraid of falling again.

.

.

As soon as I was met with resistance, I turned to see what had made him stop, thinking the worst. I was instantly ready to grab him the second he tripped."You okay?"

Kittens. Tumbling around in a pet shop window.

I stood beside him, squeezing his hand as he watched them.

"Can we go in?" he asked, glancing from them to me and back again.

There was no way I could deny him that. Instead, I held the door for him, watching as he immediately went to their enclosure. Little paws and noses squeezed between the bars of their cage, and he slipped his fingers through to touch them.

The woman who had previously been behind the counter approached him, her heels clicking against the floor. "Would you like to hold one? I can get them out," she suggested.

He jumped and glanced up at her. "...yes, please..." Shuffling out of the way, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the tiny creatures. Although being asked to pick which one he wanted initially bewildered him, he quickly asked for a little grey one - the one he'd been playing with before the woman came up to him.

Obliging, she unlocked the door and scooped it up, settling it in his arms. Her eyes remained on him even when she stepped back, and I realised with a jolt of sadness what she was seeing that made her so sympathetic; he might have been wearing civilian clothing, but he still had the hospital's identification bracelet around his wrist and a lure taped into his hand. No doubt, she'd noticed the bruising and his weight as well, and the brace around his arm.

I went to crouch beside him, kissing his cheek before letting the kitten sniff me. It's purring seemed to comfort him to no end, and he ran his fingers through it's fur over and over again, holding it against his chest.

"She's so tiny and soft," he whispered to me, glancing up. The first genuine smile I'd seen in weeks crept across his face. "Do you want to hold her?"

I didn't trust myself not to drop it or squeeze it too hard; my hands weren't as gentle as his. "You keep her; I don't want to hurt her." The kitten mewed softly, pushing her way through his hands to press her nose into his cheek. Her paws sunk in and out of his clothing, pulling herself up on short little limbs to be close to him.

A laugh bubbled to the surface, and he readjusted his hold on her. Her little body fit in the crook of his arms, and he sat back on his legs. Whatever pain he was feeling was clearly outweighed by his want to cuddle that kitten. "She's so sweet...she even smells good…"

I let my fingers brush her ears, feeling the tickle of her whiskers grazing my hand. "I think she likes you."

He laughed again, his smile never fading. "Are you _sure_ that you don't want to hold her? She's so soft, Garrett."

"I'm no good with animals, Carlisle," I murmured, rubbing his shoulders as I stood behind him. I was very aware of him shifting uncomfortably, trying to disperse the pain until he sighed quietly and got up again. He put the kitten back in her cage and stepped back into my arms. I slipped my arm around his waist again.

"Thank you," he said to the woman, his face flushing as he watched the floor.

Her smile was guarded. "That's alright. You two take care," she told us as we headed for the door.

"You okay?" I murmured as I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. Getting to the car seemed like a long shot while he was this wobbly on his feet.

"...Can we still go home?" he asked quickly. "Please? I-"

"I'll take you home, Carlisle, it's okay."

.

.

Lying on the bed with him, it was as close to what he wanted for his birthday as we were going to get. It was too painful for him to cuddle into me, so I moulded myself around his body, pressing kisses against his neck and cheek. He was fighting falling asleep. Being home seemed to dissolve some of the tension in his shoulders, and he was finally starting to relax. We still had a few hours before I had to take him back to the hospital - it wasn't even lunch time yet.

I pulled the blankets up over him, tucking him into bed. "Go to sleep if you can, yeah?" I suggested.

"...want to be with you, not sleep…" he mumbled, barely awake as it was. "All I've done all week is sleep." His hand found mine and he squeezed my fingers.

"I'll still be here," I assured him, brushing his hair off of his face. "It'll do you good to get some rest."

The smile he offered wasn't stable, and he shifted slightly to lean his head against my shoulder. He was colder than I would have liked, needing to eat most likely. "...so good to be in our bed again…"

"Make the most of it, then." It only took a couple of minutes for the heat of my body to soak into him, and it was enough of a comfort to make him fall asleep.

.

.

I stayed with him until I was sure that he was going to stay unconscious, and then wandered into the kitchen. Seeming as he had no appetite for hospital food, I hoped a home-made lunch might tempt him into eating. There were just enough ingredients left in the pantry to make a decent meal. It didn't take long, and I internally debated whether I should wake him up to eat.

I decided against it. He needed to sleep; he could eat in the car if he really needed to. Instead, I busied myself with dishes and tidying up, waiting impatiently. I eventually got back in bed with him, risking wrapping my arms around him. He unconsciously cuddled into me. Being with him again was such a relief that it was making me tired too.

It wasn't until I was nudged awake that I realised I had fallen asleep as well. "Garrett…"

I closed my hand over his, not awake enough to make sense of what he wanted to say. "You want something to eat?" I asked, forcing myself to sit up. "I missed having you here like this."

"Gar...I don't feel good…" he pleaded again, almost begging me to listen. Sure enough, he was too pale, biting his lip as he squeezed my hand. "Please…"

That was enough to clear my head. "You're hurting?" I asked, starting to pull the blankets free of us. I knew he was getting upset, tears welling up and threatening to spill over.

"I-I don't know- I just don't feel well," he repeated. His breath was starting to catch, his hands shaking violently.

It made me panic a bit. "Let's go back to the ward." I was instantly helping him get dressed again - too quickly; I was moving too fast for him to keep up. Seeing that he wanted to cry, I kissed him softly. "It'll be okay; your medication must be wearing off."

He didn't want to stand up, holding onto me to slow me down. "...Garrett…"

"Come and get in the car, it'll only get worse the longer we leave it." This time, I ignored his protest, getting him to his feet. We only made it to the kitchen before he needed to sit down, and I let him rest at the table while I put some of the lunch in a container for later, if he wanted it. "Carlisle, it's okay," I soothed, kissing him as I crouched down in front of him.

"I can't- I can't go back, I-"

"Yes you can. You have to." I let him lean against me for a while as he tried to catch his breath. "I won't let you fall."

"It never used to hurt this bad as a child," he blurted out. "I should be able to handle it."

"You're badly injured, Carlisle," I reminded him, holding my hand against his cheek. I brushed away the few tears that fell with my thumb. That he was thinking about that at all made me want to vomit. "You shouldn't _have_ to handle it…"

.

.

It took a while, but eventually I managed to coax him in to stumbling to the car. The seat belt seemed particularly painful this time around, now that the painkillers had worn off, and he kept his good hand in between his body and the fabric the entire drive. I kept my hand on his leg, struggling to keep my attention firmly on the road.

I really didn't expect the rush of relief that I felt when he was finally signed back into the ward, no matter how much it was upsetting him. The nurse took one look at him and went to arrange another dose of morphine, instructing him back to bed immediately. He did as he was told with a quiet sigh.

"You alright?" I asked, wrapping my arms around him as he sat on the edge of the mattress.

"I'm okay," he whispered back, burying his face in my shirt. I rubbed his back, trying not to touch where he was sore.

"I can stay until you fall asleep?" I suggested softly, resting my cheek on the top of his head.

"...you'll be hungry- you'll miss dinner, Gar...it's okay; it'll be too late by the time you get home."

"I can get food on the way home, it's alright." It wasn't very likely he would be awake much after his next round of drugs. Once he was lying down, the nurse reattaching his IV, I sat in the chair beside the bed to keep out of the way. I rubbing his hand as he held onto the bed, tracing the lines of his fingers.

"Go home, Garrett...I'll be fine; I'm only going to fall asleep again," he told me again. This time, I got the sense that he _wanted_ to be left alone, the exhaustion starting to wear thin. Enough must have been enough for one day.

"Alright," I agreed reluctantly, leaning forward to kiss him. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

He nodded and squeezed my hand. "Yeah, thank you for taking me out…"

"Get some more sleep, Carlisle."

.

.

My eyes burnt as I stepped out of the hospital, and I fought back a surge of tears. Going home to an empty apartment was the last thing I wanted to do, so I wandered up the street instead. It was far too familiar to what I had done with Carlisle an hour, and I fought back a surge of longing as my feet came to a stop.

The kittens. That little grey one still pawing at the window. After standing outside for a minute debating what to do, I pushed open the pet shop door for the second time that day. The woman at the counter looked confused, presumably at the state I'd worked myself up into and because of my repeated presence.

"Are you alright?" she asked me slowly.

"T-the kittens...they're for sale, right? The grey one?"


	61. Chapter 61

**The next chapter is already mostly written, so it should be up in a few days as well, all going well. Let's put an end to slow updates!**

.

.

The kitten wasn't just grey. She was a smokey silver, cream smudges on her little mouth, her small paws and along her stomach, a white tip on her tail. The woman let me hold her while she prepared the carry crate for her, and she began purring the moment I touched her. I hadn't cuddled an animal since I was a child, and I felt more than a little awkward with her in my hands, but that didn't make me want her any less.

"She really likes your friend," the shop clerk commented. "She can be quite timid with some people."

"She can stay with him when he's home by himself," I mumbled without thinking about it. She would have no idea what I was talking about, and my cheeks flushed as I hoped she wouldn't ask. Thankfully, she didn't. I cleared my throat to get rid of the tight feeling. "It's his birthday today." Again, I groaned internally; I was a socially incompetent idiot.

The lady smiled at me though. "Birthday present, then?" She looked faintly excited at the thought of it, and it made me feel a little better about the decision.

"Yeah, I guess." After today, I'd come to the conclusion it would be a long time before he was well enough for us to be able to do anything special, and I didn't want to let the occasion pass unmarked. Not after he'd been so sweet to me. That, and seeing Carlisle smiling with a kitten was definitely something that I wanted to see every morning.

She smiled and gestured for me to hand her the cat, and I ran my credit card through the machine. We'd already gathered whatever stuff kittens apparently needed - I didn't have a damn clue - and I just watched as the woman put it all in the bag.

The tiny creature started crying as soon as she was put in the dark box. It had holes on the side for ventilation, large enough for that pink nose or tiny feet to peek through as she tried to find her way out. I felt bad for her as I put the crate on the front seat of my car, pausing for a second as I contemplated locking the seat belt around it. It seemed rather stupid, but at the same time, I would hate myself if I injured my boyfriend's kitten before he even knew he had one. I reached across and clicked it into place.

.

.

I wasn't a cat person. Not at all. I'd never had pets in the family, and I never thought that I would own one.

Still, having the little scrap of fluff purring on my knee helped to fill the void that Carlisle not being home created. I took her to bed with me after dinner, settling on her my chest. She really was quite cute. Pulling the blankets over both of us, I let my eyes fall closed and switched off all the lights. Part of me wondered if it was safe to bring such a tiny creature to bed, but I was too tired to worry about it too much. She would get out of the way if I rolled near her. I hoped.

A few seconds passed, and the kitten shifted. Whiskers brushed over my face, and she pressed her nose to mine with a soft meow. I covered her with my hand, unable to hold back a smile as she settled again. My palm could cover her entire back, she was so little.

She stayed with me all night, purring and curled up on top of me, and followed me at my ankles into the kitchen the next morning. Forget cute, she was bloody adorable. I couldn't wait until Carlisle got to meet her. We ate breakfast together, after she whined at me as I struggled to get the can of cat food open. Knowing my incompetence, the woman from the pet store had carefully explained to me when she needed to be fed, how I should set up her litter box, stop her from climbing the curtains, and the rest of it. It seemed to be going well so far.

It would be better once Carlisle was home. I knew he had more experience with small furry creatures than I did, and he would know how to look after her properly. I frowned as I thought about him; I wanted him home so badly. It was still too early in the day for me to go to the hospital and see him - the kitten had woken me up before eight AM - and I didn't want to text him in case he had managed to sleep. "Come here, puss," I murmured, scooping her up to hug her, burying my face in her fur. I wondered what he would name her.

.

.

It was another two days before my boyfriend got to come home again. He'd called me to tell me that he would get out in a few hours so there was no need to rush, but I went straight away anyway; he sounded so anxious and tired, and I didn't want him to be by himself if he wasn't feeling well.

Sure enough, he looked terrified when I got to the ward, anxiously fidgeting with the blankets and his clothing, watching the floor. I hadn't told him that I was coming early, and the shock registered on his face as I crouched in front of him. "What's wrong?" I asked softly, gently tilting his chin up so he would look at me.

He hugged me immediately. "...I missed you…"

"I missed you too, but you'll be home soon." My confusion only heightened as he grew more and more anxious, starting to hyperventilate a little. "Carlisle, what happened? What's wrong?" I asked again. Caius immediately came to mind, and I hoped to god that he hadn't been here while I wasn't.

"I can't do anything by myself," he mumbled. I could hear the hurt in his voice, and immediately tightened my arms around him. "...I don't want to be a burden…"

My stomach clenched uncomfortably, and I sat on the bed next to him, pulling him into me. "You aren't going to be a burden; it's not forever, and I'll make sure you're okay while this is happening." I felt him shudder at my words. "I love you, Carlisle, we just have to get you better now."

He nodded and fell quiet. It was a while before a nurse came around to removed his IV and cut off his ID bracelet. She asked all the usual 'do you live alone?' questions, which he responded to with slightly irritated yes and nos.

"Please consider the counselling, Carlisle, it will do you good," she murmured at the end. The pamflit she set on the bed was labelled ' _help for sexual abuse victims_ '.

He immediately shoved it in his pocket. Heat flooded his face and he wouldn't make eye contact with either of us. "I said I would," he snapped at her.

"Hey," I murmured, reaching over to squeeze his hand. I was surprised that he had the energy to be pissed off with anyone. Perhaps it was more born out of shame than annoyance.

If she was hurt by his outburst, she covered it well. "You can go when you're ready," she told him, smiling patiently.

He didn't need her to say it twice. His movement off the bed was too quick, sending him stumbling into me and dropping his phone on the floor in the process. Whatever pain it caused was promptly ignored as he picked it up and fled into the corridor to get away.

She sighed and looked at me. "You don't live far? He can't be sitting long, and the medication will make him nauseous in the car."

I shook my head. "No, but we can stop if he needs to. Thanks for being so good about everything." Quickly following him, I risked wrapping my arm around his waist in case he fell again. Even though he looked like he was about to come apart in the elevator, I didn't dare ask what was wrong.

We didn't speak again until we been driving for a good ten minutes and I snuck my hand onto his leg. "...I've got the rest of the week off work...if it takes longer than that, then I'll figure something out."

"...you're sure…?" His eyes flicked over to me, the apprehension never leaving his face.

"...I know you're scared, Carlisle, I'm not leaving you on your own…" My fingers found his, and I gently squeezed his hand. I was still waiting for him to freak out.

He seemed to realise that I needed more of an explanation about what was going on, and he took a shaky breath. "...The doctor recommended that I go to counselling to, ah, 'get over' Caius...they think it'll help the anxiety," he explained softly.

"Will you go?" I asked, inwardly pleased.

He quickly looked away. "...will you come with me…?" As soon as he noticed me hesitate, he continued. "Please, Garrett, you don't have to come in, but please be there?" he pleaded.

"Yes, Carlisle," I reassured him. "Do you think it'll help your eating?"

The question made his shoulders stiffen, and it was enough for me to know that it wasn't an appreciated line of conversation. He started to answer me a couple of times, but couldn't see to get the words out and gave up in the end.

"Are you...okay?" It felt like a dumb question, but he looked so terrified, so nervous and afraid, that I couldn't stop myself.

"...I just yelled at someone who was trying to help me, and I don't know if I can face Caius if we have to go to court…I don't know anymore..." Something seemed to break inside him. The urge to stop the car was almost overwhelming, but if he wasn't going to be able to sit long the last thing I wanted was to prolong our journey. I just squeezed his hand instead.

.

.

He was quiet for the rest of the trip. His fingers dug into the upholstery of the seats every time the vehicle hit a bump wrong. There were no complaints, but a sigh of relief escaped as we pulled into the carpark. I didn't trust him to get up by himself. I locked my arm around him as he carefully got to his feet, holding him steady as he bit his lip.

He stumbled blindly in the door once we finally got to our floor, already exhausted and sore from the short journey. "Sorry, Gar, I gotta lie down…" he mumbled apologetically. "I know we haven't really seen each other, but-"

I interrupted him with a quick kiss, already starting to ease his jacket off him. "Bed is the best place for you, Carlisle." That was all it took for him to admit defeat. His shoulders slumped and he nodded. I knew he wasn't going to be able to undress himself without aggravating his injuries, and that he wouldn't ask me for help, so I followed him to our room. The effort left him on the brink of tears. "I'll be back in a minute," I promised with a forced smile.

Somehow, the kitten hadn't gotten in the way as we came in the door, taking cover out of sight for the time being. My heart rate picked up when I couldn't find her anywhere; I was seriously starting to doubt my pet-parent ability.

Thankfully, she pranced over to me as soon as I touched the tin of cat food, and I captured her before she could run off again. She mewed softly in protest as I scooped her up, and I stroked her to keep her quiet as I took her down the hallway. "Close your eyes," I instructed Carlisle as I came back into the bedroom, knowing he'd hear the purring anyway.

"...Why?" he asked hesitantly, doing as I said. Too caught up in his anxiety, he didn't seem to pick up on the foreign sound. He'd managed to curl up in the time I'd been gone, wriggling under the blankets but not looking comfortable.

I sat next to him on the bed, gently taking his good hand. Before I could guide hm into touching the kitten, she cried, her wet nose pushing at his fingers. It was too much; he couldn't resist peaking. I put her in his lap before he could say anything, kissing him gently. "Happy birthday. I know it's late, but I didn't think your nurse was forgiving enough for me to bring an animal into the ward."

"...we're keeping her...?" It was barely a whisper, and he was clearly nervous.

"Yeah, she's yours; I wouldn't bring you a kitten just to take it away. She can keep you company when you're home by yourself." I let our lips meet again, rubbing his leg. "You have to name her, though."

"Are you really okay with having a cat, though? She's not a present, Gar, she's a little creature that needs food and attention-"

"Just like you then, right? I've kept you alive long enough," I teased, chuckling. I shuffled down the bed and lay back, pulling the pillows closer behind him. "Come here, Carlisle."

He set the kitten on my stomach while he tried to find a way to lie back, quickly becoming upset again as he struggled to do it without it hurting. The cat mewed at him, and I stroked her, barely resisting reaching for him; I knew I would only hurt him if I did. "Are we parents now?" he asked shakily as he finally found a way to lie against me.

I grinned at him. "I guess so...you're happy about having a pet?" I asked cautiously, wondering if _he_ was sure, seeming as I got her without asking him.

"Yeah, she's perfect…" Her tail weaved through his fingertips, and he ran his uninjured hand over her fur again and again. She continued to purr and bunt at him, her claws weaving in and out of my clothing over and over again. "When did you get her?"

"On your birthday. She's slept in bed with me every night since," I chuckled, kissing the top of his head. "I'm glad you're back, though; I don't know how to look after her."

"I'd say you've done a good job, seeming as she's so happy." Getting tired again, his words started to slur together.

I carefully shuffled out from under him, making sure he was wrapped in the blankets as I got up. The kitten was easily settled up against him, made even happier her as he half-heartedly stroked her. "Get some rest; she'll stay in bed with you if you let her." It was far too early for me to want to get in bed, and I needed to clean up a bit - the whole house had become a mess while I was home alone - and I was fairly confident that he would just sleep now.

.

.

It took a good two hours before I'd done it. It reminded me of my mother always telling me off for being such a living tornado, something I'd thankfully grown out of when I met Carlisle and had wanted to somewhat impress him every time he came over. That seemed to have worn off now we lived together, though.

Lying in bed with him was the best thing in the world after the last few days. Despite the awkward brace on his arm and the splinting against his ribs, he was desperate to cuddle into me. I slipped my arm behind him so he could rest his head on my shoulder, and he quickly shuffled in closer to my side. It wasn't as intimate as normal, but it was as close as we were going to get. The soft whimper moving caused didn't escape my notice.

"You okay?" I asked quietly, brushing his hair off his face. "You're sore again?"

"A little bit," he mumbled. "I'm okay."

"We don't have to lie like this if it-"

"No, I want to," he told me quickly. "I want you…"

I hated myself for what I was about to ask, but I had to know. "You won't be going to work for a while...do you know if they're giving paid leave? Sorry, I know you're sick, and that you probably don't want to think about it right now, but we'll have to figure something out if you're not..." I just hoped that he wouldn't be upset with me for bringing it up.

He squeezed my arm as if to reassure me that it was alright. "I know, Gar...they're paying me for a few days while they're arranging a meeting for me to talk to some people in head office. I'm not sure after that..." he mumbled into me.

"Okay, we'll manage if you need time off and they won't pay for it." Somehow. I'd paid for this place on my own for years, and having Carlisle live with me wouldn't cost that much more, or so I figured. I hoped.

He started to sit up to face me, but the pain stopped him. "I'll start work again as soon as I'm allowed; I don't want to push all of this onto you - it isn't fair."

"That isn't what I meant, Carlisle; I'd rather you stayed home until you were actually well enough to go out again than go sooner and make things worse for yourself." It wasn't like it would kill me to have to work a few extra hours if I had to.

"...I love you..." he whispered, kissing my neck.

"I love you too, Carlisle." Rubbing his leg, I suddenly badly missed being able to have my arms around him like I used to. It was difficult to remember where I could touch him without it hurting, not that he would tell me if something I did was uncomfortable anyway. He was freezing no matter how many blankets I wrapped him in, and was already half asleep as I balanced my laptop on my stomach to set up a movie. "Not too loud?" I asked as I pushed play. There was no way I would be able to sleep yet.

"It's alright." He was so sleepy, he didn't care either way, almost unconscious as the warmth of my body soaked into him.

.

.

Carlisle's phone rang early the next morning. From the worried expression on his face, I knew it was someone from his office. I stayed staring at the ceiling as he spoke to them, trying to determine the logistics of him being unemployed for a while. It wouldn't be the end of the world, but it would be awkward; ordinarily, he earned more than I did and worked longer hours, so we would definitely feel it. Thank god he had health insurance, otherwise we would have been screwed.

"Garrett…" His voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Hmm?" I glanced over at him, propping myself up on my elbows. "The company?"

"Yeah...the CEO wants to meet with me," he explained quietly.

"When?" A week would be easiest, I thought, seeming as he could barely move.

He swallowed thickly, glancing at the time on his phone. "...In three hours? Caius needs to be there too, and he won't agree to another time."

"Because he wants to hurt you," I grumbled bitterly. "Are you going to be okay, going this soon?"

"I just want it to be over, Garrett, I have to be."

He wouldn't be able to sit that long, and we both knew it. I was already picturing my hands around the bastard's throat; of course he needed to have one last stab at Carlisle before he couldn't touch him anymore. "Alright, can I come?"

"I don't know…" he shrugged. "I'm not sure what they want."

"Do you want me there? At this point, I don't think it should matter what _they_ want." My tone was too harsh, making him look away from me.

"Yes, of course I do...just don't punch Caius? He doesn't need another excuse to play the victim." The smile he offered was a thin veil for anxiety.


	62. Chapter 62

**Does anyone else ever go over and over something so many times that it doesn't make sense anymore? Because that unfortunately is this chapter…**

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Everything had been okay until it was almost time to leave. Needing help to get ready had been enough of a slap in the face to remind him of his current state, and he was tired before we even made it to the kitchen. It certainly hadn't helped his confidence any. I didn't bother offering him breakfast as we made coffee - instead, I found myself supervising him as he poured boiling water into both of our mugs, just waiting for the crash. A sigh of relief escaped before I could stop it once the jug was back on its cradle.

"I can manage," he told me. His cheeks were still hot from the effort getting dressed had required, and he really wasn't feeling good now. The painkillers helped, but not a lot.

I nodded, still hovering like a concerned parent. I knew he was hating every second of being dependant and that I was only making him more aware of it by being so close, but I couldn't help it. Not while he was like this. He handed me my mug and reached down to pet the kitten. Instantly, I could see it hadn't been a good idea; he gave up halfway, pain flashing across his face as his ribs complained. "Sit down, and I will bring her to you."

He did as he was told, moving to the table. As soon as I set her in his lap, he was stroking her. Having her seemed to dull the sting of annoyance he felt toward not being able to get her himself.

"Have you thought about what you want to name her?" I asked to distract him.

"...'Fox'?" he suggested after thinking for a moment. "She's quick enough."

I honestly didn't care, but it made me chuckle as I nodded. "Fox is cute." It was better than 'the kitten', which is what I'd been calling her whenever I spoke to Riley about her. We needed to leave, but I didn't want to rush him; the slightest push was going to shove him over the edge.

He was quiet for a few minutes, his head down as he kept his fingers on the kitten. "...I can't do this, Garrett…"

"Yes you can, Carlisle." My hands were instantly on his waist as he stood up again. I'd managed to finish my drink, but he hadn't touched his, and it didn't get past me. "Have your coffee before we go?"

"I can't...I can't sit through a meeting, and I can't be in the same room as him," he pleaded. "I can't, Gar…I don't know what I was thinking when I agreed to this happening today..."

I wrapped my arms around him, shifting him into me and gently rubbing the small of his back. "I know you're sore, but it'll be over in a few hours. It'll be okay," I soothed, kissing his neck. "You're going to be alright; he can't hurt you anymore." That was a lie and we both knew it.

He didn't reply, tightly squeezing my hand as we made our way to the elevator in our apartment block. Even just walking, I could see the pain on his face, and he shuffled closer to me in the lift. "I can't…" he repeated.

"You have to." I felt cruel, forcing him into the car and seeing how much it hurt him.

.

.

Unfortunately Caius's car was already in the carpark when we pulled up. If he wasn't on edge before, he _really_ was now. Tears threatened to overflow as I helped him out of the car. "...My head hurts; I'm going to throw up…" That was the first time he'd openly complained to me about anything. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn't eaten after all.

"Breathe, Carlisle," I reminded him. I kept a tight hold of his hand, knowing how badly he wanted to bolt. Not that he'd be running anywhere in his current state.

Just before we reached the office, Carlisle quickly wiped away a few tears, his cheeks already burning and his hand shaking in mine. He was squeezing my fingers so tightly that it was hurting, but I didn't ask him to let go. "I-I really can't do this," he whispered frantically, back peddling a little. "What if they take his side?"

"You have to," I argued, sighing as I hugged him. The bones under his jacket were uncomfortable to touch, seeming even more painful while he was so vulnerable. "After this, we can go home, but right now you need to go into that office."

"...I'm scared, Garrett..." he admitted.

"I know." Against my better judgement, I pushed him back, kissing him quickly and settling for holding his hand again. "You've given them the texts he sent you, and the police report, right?"

"Yeah, but…"

"Then it will be fine." It would be fine, or I was suing the fuck out this damn company on his behalf.

.

.

Everything seemed bright and foreign since the last time we'd been up here. People stared at him while he pretended they weren't there, and the entire floor at fallen quiet at our entry. For those of them that hadn't been there during the attack, the news had obviously spread like wildfire. He just pulled me forward, desperate to be out from under their scrutiny.

Upon walking into the office, the man behind the desk frowned. It was a little too obvious that Carlisle had been crying and was utterly terrified, and it wasn't exactly professional. "You don't need to worry, Carlisle, you're not the one on trial here," he murmured lowly, his eyes flicking over to me. Caius wasn't in the room yet, which was a blessing, seeming as it meant that Carlisle wasn't having a complete breakdown as soon as we entered.

That only lasted a second; he saw him look at me, and freaked out immediately. "Please can he stay? He's my partner, a-and..."

He nodded patiently. "That's fine; whatever you need to feel safe while this is going on." Pausing, he waited for him to calm down a little bit before continuing. "But I do need you to tell me what is happening, and I need to know all of it."

Swallowing thickly, he glanced at me before continuing.

I sat in silence, listening to weeks of abuse spill out of my boyfriend. By the end of it, he was shaking and crying and beyond embarrassed, having a panic attack and unable to calm down. And I was fucking furious. He hadn't told me half of what he had just admitted, and it hurt as much as I understood that he didn't want to face it. The man stood up, poured a glass of water from the jug on his desk for each of us, and headed toward the door. "I'll give you two a minute. I just wanted to hear it from you first, Carlisle, because I know he'll deny it."

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.

It was as though he'd just managed to get it together when the devil himself waltzed into the room. He shot me a dirty glare, before pointedly looking my boyfriend up and down. Carlisle shuddered before he could stop himself, flinching under his stare. Caius took the only spare seat in the room beside me. Thank god, he couldn't get any closer to Carlisle.

I was sitting on my hands to avoid beating the absolute shit out of the man next to me as he had the nerve to blame Carlisle for leading him on as soon as he was asked. He'd obviously carefully rehearsed what he wanted to say - Carlisle was right; he really did want to paint himself as the victim. Hearing it from his mouth, that he was being blamed for causing everything that had happened just like he'd feared, seemed to shatter my boyfriend.

"Shut up," Caius snapped at him. "This is your fault anyway; you've got nothing to whine about."

"You're not the one with hundreds of filthy messages on your phone and broken bones," I shot back, glaring at him as we looked at each other.

He just rolled his eyes. "Jealousy is a sour thing, Garrett-"

"Don't speak to him!" Everyone jumped as Carlisle yelled at him, quickly coming to my defense. He was so pale I was wondering whether I should make him sit on the floor in case he fell.

Caius was fuming but looked forward at his superior. "Are you going to allow this kind of behaviour within your company?" he asked arrogantly.

"Considering the claims made against you, Mr Volturi, you're in no position to be suggesting what I should be tolerating," he replied calmly. Despite his tone, he was clenching his jaw, all the subtle signs of anger.

"You can't honestly believe him-"

"Are you meaning to tell me that the _medical_ notes that Carlisle brought in with him are faked? Or that you didn't send the emails and texts and god knows what else? That the employee that you _begged_ me to bring up here was so desperate to tarnish your reputation, that he made up such an elaborate lie?" His voice was rising slowly, and it seemed to scare Caius enough that he kept his mouth shut. "You can pack your things immediately; your fired. I want you out of this building within the hour, and I'll be filing a trespass complaint if you step foot on this property again."

There was a tense silence in the room, and Carlisle looked like he was going to pass out from the relief of it.

"He loses his job too," Caius grumbled, glancing at him.

"No, he does not. He gets this company's support if he chooses to press charges against you," he told him evenly. "Get out of my office; that's enough."

Caius's chair screeched on the wooden floor as he shoved in backwards when he stood. He stalked toward the door, slamming it hard as he exited. It was very reminiscent of Kate's tantrums when she didn't get her way. I forced back a smug smirk as the CEO started to talk again.

"Carlisle, the company is giving you four weeks paid leave, starting tomorrow, to try and, uh...recuperate. If you don't feel ready to come back to work after that, then come and see me and we can figure something out; I'm sure you'd be able to work from home for a while, if you need to." His tone was much gentler now, and his face had formed a kinder, apologetic frown.

"T-thank you…" he mumbled, leaning against me. I gently slipped my arm around him, rubbing his hip. Sitting was obviously wearing thin.

"We're deeply sorry for what has happened here; Caius will be barred from the premises, as I said. It's up to you whether or not you want press charges, but I recommend you do. I know this has been traumatic for you."

He just nodded, over it and wanting to go home.

"You're a valued employee here, and you're safety is the priority now-"

"Can I leave now?" he interrupted suddenly. It took everyone by surprise and shocked the man into silence for a few seconds. His face flushed as he came to terms with his own outburst. "Please? I-I appreciate all of this, but I really don't feel well…" he mumbled softly.

"I understand, Carlisle. Call me if you have any questions, or if there's anything I can do." He stood to shake both of our hands, smiling grimly.

.

.

We made it out of the building and into the car before he started to come apart. Looking like he wanted to be sick at any second, he just kept his head down, refusing to look at me. I hoped he wouldn't puke; if nothing else, it would aggravate his ribs something terrible.

"It's over, Carlisle, you're safe now," I reminded him, reaching over to rub his leg as I drove. Under my hand, I could feel him shaking, but he was trying hard to contain it.

He let out a shaky breath. "Thank god." It didn't need to be said that he needed the security of home now. "Thanks for coming; I'm sorry he yelled at you."

"You have nothing to apologise for - especially not for his behaviour." I risked a glance away from the road at him. Despite his victory, he still didn't look comforted. "Are you not happy about the outcome?" I asked carefully.

"Of course I am," he said quickly. "It's far better than what I'd hoped for. Just...every time something goes well, it all seems to come crashing down again...I'm tired of all of this." This really wasn't a conversation for a car ride. His teeth sunk into his lip, the exhaustion really starting to show again.

My heart clenched, and I involuntarily squeezed his thigh in response. "You've had a pretty shit year."

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"For what?" The frown was inevitable.

"For this relationship always being so one-sided. For making you pick up the pieces over and over again. For making your life difficult all the time." As he spoke, his fingers pulled at the brace around his wrist, purposefully digging into the exposed skin until he drew blood. I didn't think he knew he was doing it, but that didn't stop a knot of discomfort forming in my stomach.

"That isn't true, Carlisle." Needing him to stop the destructive behaviour before I accidently ran us off the road, I grabbed his good hand, holding it tightly.

"Yes it is; even if you don't see it like that, you're basically my carer at the moment, and you've had to put your career on hold because I can't look after myself-"

"It isn't like I even had any initiative toward my job anyway; I sit at a desk all day, I'm not going anywhere in a hurry in that department," I pointed out, interrupting to make him stop. I'd lost my grip on his hand, and he'd immediately reverted back to the self-injury. "Look, all I want from you is for you to go to counselling." It would have done him good to have gone years ago, in terms of getting over his father.

The car was very quiet for a moment. "I will, but can we just go home now? I can't take much more of this, Gar…"

I nodded. I wasn't sure if it was the topic or the pain, but something was making it hard for him to hold back tears. A meltdown in the car wasn't something I was prepared for.

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Carlisle slept for a solid twelve hours after we got home. I'd gone to make us something for lunch, but he'd curled up on the bed and fallen asleep by the time I'd come back. I didn't touch him for fear of waking him up; he hadn't gotten changed or pulled the blankets over himself, but I let him be anyway.

It was only after soft movement in the kitchen woke me up, that I found I'd dozed off on the couch. The furniture groaned as I propped myself up on my elbows to see over the back of it. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Come to bed, Gar, what are you doing? It's late." He wandered over to me, rubbing the back of my hand as I set it on the arm rest. He was moving quite stiffly, wincing as he carefully sat down next to me. "I just slept wrong; I'm fine," he mumbled when he caught my worried glance.

"You slept, though, that's good." I forced myself to wake up properly. I suddenly wasn't sleepy anymore, and he didn't look like he was either. "This morning was a relief, huh?" Finding his fingers, I gently squeezed them, pleased when it made him smile.

"I'm so glad that's over; even if Caius doesn't get charged with anything, at least I won't end up back in London, and I still have a job...and it won't be hurting us anymore."

"It was never going to hurt us, Carlisle, get that idea out of your head," I reminded him gently. "How does a midnight snack sound? You haven't eaten all day." That, and food tasted better to me at one AM.

He glanced at the time again and groaned. "Okay, I guess. Do you want help, or-"

"I can handle the microwave on my own; stay put." I tilted his chin up with my fingertips, softly bringing my lips to his. "You find something to watch instead." Putting the TV remote in his hand, I knew there was no way he was going to have any luck, unless he wanted to watch infomercials all night.

Remarkably, he managed to dredge up Lord of the Rings on an abstract channel, having sunken into cushions by the time I got back. He glanced up at me as I handed him a plate, checking that his choice was okay, and managing a small smile once I nodded. He didn't say anything until I set my empty plate down a few minutes later. "...can you please…?" he asked softly, pleading with me to understand without making him say the words.

"Yeah." I took his plate from him; I'd forgotten to cut up his food, and his feeble attempt had failed miserably. "It's fine, Carlisle, don't worry about it." He looked unsure now, despite his victory this morning.

He slowly picked at the meal once I handed it back to him. Everytime I glanced at him, he would hesitate, and I forced myself to watch the TV and not him. "...I called the councillor this afternoon; I have an appointment next week…"

That was better than I'd hoped. I fought back a smile and slid my hand onto his knee. "I'm really happy about that," I admitted after a moment.

"...I told you I would…" he mumbled.

"I didn't think you would do it that quickly." As soon as he was done eating, I pulled him into my arms, moulding myself around him so that it wouldn't hurt. "Thank you; I know you don't want to go, but I think it will help you - if not with Caius, with…"

"Dad…" he sighed, fighting back a groan.

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Neither of us got to bed before four AM, but Carlisle was up at seven anyway. He'd wandered out of the room to let me sleep, but I heard him come back in about half an hour later. "I know it's early, but is it okay if Al comes over for a bit? He's not feeling good…" he asked softly.

I barely resisted telling him that he lived here as equally as I did, and there was no point in him asking permission. It wasn't like it mattered too much; I could sleep through the visit anyway. "Yeah, of course," I mumbled into the pillows. It wasn't long before a knock at the door woke me up again, and I surrendered any chance of a sleep in. Caffeine would have to suffice as energy today.

"Jesus, you look like absolute shit." Alistair pointedly looked him up and down as soon as he was allowed inside, but Carlisle ignored it.

"So do you." He wasn't wrong; I might not have been told entirely what was going on, but it was obvious something was wrong just by looking at Alistair - clothing askew and hair a mess, he must have rushed out of the house.

"I missed you." His voice was softer now, and he enclosed Carlisle in a careful hug. I tried not to wince at the contact, praying that he was gentle enough.

"What happened, Al?" he asked quietly. His question made the other man groan, his hold on him tightening.

The next breath he took was trembly and weird, and I suddenly regretted being present. As far as Alistair and I had come in terms of our relationship, I wasn't prepared to watch him have a meltdown. "Randal and I are fighting," he mumbled. "I don't know what to do, Carlisle, I love him but it's not working out, and..."

And that was my cue to get out. Riley had been badgering me for the past two weeks about getting coffee or something, and that was looking like a really good idea right at that moment. The two of them would probably appreciate the privacy anyway. "I'm going to Riley's," I murmured in my boyfriend's ear as I kissed him goodbye. "Please call me if you need me."

"I'll be fine; go enjoy yourself, Gar," he told me, looking a little too pleased that I was going. He never did stop feeling guilty about my staying home all the time, becoming almost desperate to get me out of the house and doing something other than look after him. That, and he was starting to feel smothered.

I decided to walk into town rather than drive, quickly flicking my coworker a text on the way, asking if he still wanted to do something. His reply was an almost instant yes.

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.

"Hey, Garrett." Sporting his normal friendly smile, he made his way over to me, enclosing me in a tight hug. "How are things?"

"Good," I grinned. "Carlisle's doing a lot better now everything's settling."

"And what about you?" he prompted. He stepped closer to me as we walked - we'd decided a wander around town would suit us both fine, seeming as his girlfriend's parents were visiting and he wanted to get away for awhile.

That brought on a frown. "I'm fine; there was never anything wrong with me," I reminded him. My heart skipped a few beats and a knot of discomfort formed in my stomach; I didn't want to get into this line of conversation.

"I know you've been stressed with everything that's going on, I just need to know you're okay too," he murmured lowly.

"I'm fine, Riley," I repeated. "Really." Trying to distract him, I gave him a run down on the new developments regarding Caius, and it worked for the time being. It didn't take much to set him off about his in-laws, either, and I was suddenly very glad that I didn't have any.

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All too soon, I was making my way back home. It was early evening now, but Alistair was still there. It bothered me slightly that it was Carlisle comforting him and not the other way around - relationship drama or not,it didn't seem right. I wondered if he'd told his friend what had happened over the last few months, and from the heat in his cheeks and the irritation on Alistair's face, he had. My presence seemed to chase our guest from the house, and I waited in the kitchen while they said their goodbyes.

"Do you think he'd take self defense lessons if we dragged him there?" Alistair grumbled to me, suddenly beside me at the bench. He looked pissed.

"What do you think? He barely wants to get out of bed," I grumbled back.

He groaned, exasperated. "You're right; he wouldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag if we gave him scissors. He's like the kid in the hunger games who gave up and fed himself to the tigers or some shit, just because he doesn't want to hurt anyone else."

I couldn't _not_ laugh at that, though it was sadly true.

"Goodnight, Garrett, sorry for barging in this afternoon."

"Come back when you need to. Night, Alistair."

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	63. Chapter 63

**Another short chapter to overcome writer's block and try and get back to regular updates!**

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"Garrett!" I was in the shower when he yelped my name, and my stomach dropped, thinking something was horribly wrong, until he burst through the bathroom door far faster than he should have. He didn't give me a chance to ask what had happened. "He pleaded guilty!"

I shut off the water, leaning my forehead against the wall as I tried to process what he was saying. It was _way_ too early in the morning for this. "What?"

"Caius pleaded guilty; I don't have to give evidence against him. They only have to decide his sentence," he explained, managing to calm down enough to speak at a normal pace. "It's over...I won…" A smile was irresistible.

"What if he gets a lighter punishment?" I frowned, wanting nothing more than for the bastard to burn in hell, plea deal or not. As much as I didn't want tarnish his excitement, I also didn't want him to get ahead of himself.

He sat on the edge of the bath to talk to me, all the movement sending him off balance. "I don't care; he's away from me and I don't have to face him."

Giving up on a peaceful shower, I grabbed my towel and got out. I didn't blame him for barging in unannounced, biting back a grin at the slightly embarrassed look on his face as he considered his own behaviour.

"Sorry, I, um…"

I leaned down to kiss him lightly, chuckling to myself. "It's okay. I'm happy for you, just still be careful for a while; you've got time off work for a reason."

He nodded that he would be.

As time when on, I could see that the news made all the difference to him. The physical pain seemed to affect him less, and he coped better with the idea of talking to someone now he knew that he was safe from the awful man. I hadn't realised how scared he'd been of Caius still being a threat. Despite knowing that he was in custody for aggravated assault and sexual harassment and wouldn't be seeing the light of day for a while, I couldn't shake the feeling apprehension whenever I was reminded of him.

.

.

I was _not_ in favour of a family meeting. At _all._ Thank god, we didn't have to drive to my parent's place, and were meeting at Eleazar's instead, but I was still shitty about it. The amount of pain it was about to cause Carlisle wasn't worth whatever my brother so desperately wanted to tell everyone. Still beyond happy about Caius, my boyfriend really hadn't thought that far ahead; he's been the one to speak to Carmen on the phone, and had agreed to going without a second thought - in any other situation, I would have been over the moon about his willingness to see them, but not this time.

"Are you sure-"

"I'll be fine, Garrett, it's okay," Carlisle reassured me for the millionth time. We'd been sitting in the car for a good twenty minutes now, but he didn't look too uncomfortable yet. Granted, he's taken a shit load of painkiller before we came out, just to shut me up.

"Just don't let Kate jump on you," I reminded him, already planning how I might intercept her before she inevitably did it.

"I know," he said softly. His hand found its way onto my thigh, fidgeting with the fabric of my pants. Why he was being so plassid about the situation, I never know; I suspected that perhaps my sister-in-law had already told him the reason for the visit, but he refused to budge on it.

I turned to face him once the car was parked in their driveway, cupping his face in my hand to force him to look at me. " _Promise_ me that you will tell me if this if too much," I murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I will, Gar; I love you."

.

.

The first awkward moment was when my family laid eyes on Carlisle. The brace around his wrist wasn't exactly subtle, despite him trying to hide it under his jacket, and although the bruises had mostly faded, they were still visible. I stammered to answer my mother's careful question as to what happened; it wasn't like I could I could openly tell them.

"...I fell…" Carlisle mumbled after a pause, his cheeks burning as he looked down. At the same time, I saw Eleazar's stare harden, almost fixated on him. My nerves instantly prickled. My own reaction instantly made me check myself; this was my brother, for god's sake, he was hardly a threat.

The rest of them took the lie easily, and it earned from gentle teasing from dad about him being clumsy. It made my boyfriend smile, even if out of nothing but relief to be left alone.

Just as I'd expected, Kate charged us, bursting into a fit of giggles as caught her waist and lifted her up. She immediately repeated Carlisle's greeting to her in a bad version of his accent, and the tension in the room eased as everyone chuckled. She twisted in my arms to face me. "Uncle Garrett, is Carlisle your husband?" she asked innocently.

Now my family was really laughing, but my face was burning and I didn't know what to do. Carmen tried to shush her but it was too late. His name sounded cute when she said it though, not quite pronouncing all the syllables correctly. "Um, we're not married, Katie," I explained carefully, shooting Carlisle a playful glare as he hid a smile at my awkwardness.

She frowned as seriously as a five year old could. "Not married like mummy and daddy?" she reiterated. "But you live together!" I knew exactly what parent she got her dramatic flare from as she announced that; it had Eleazar written all over it.

"Enough, Kate," Carmen scolded through her giggles. "Leave them be."

"Have you been sending that kid to Sunday school?" I laughed to my brother. He just rolled his eyes at me.

.

.

My niece wouldn't let up on her badgering of my boyfriend, demanding his attention so determinedly that he opted to sit on the floor with her in the living room and endure a round of building houses for her dolls out of lego. I winced on his behalf - he was going to pay for being on the ground later. Still, dad was watching him, a fond smile on his face. As soon as he caught me watching him studying Carlisle, his cheeks flushed and he quickly looked away again.

"You're going to be doubly in demand when Kate's little brother or sister is born," Carmen told him, semi-offhand but unable to resist a smile. One of her hands was wrapped in both of Eleazar's and they exchanged a glance.

There was a ten second pause where everyone processed the information, and my heart skipped a couple of beats. Suddenly, mum squealed and jumped up, her voice reaching a couple of octaves I'd never heard before as she embraced the couple. Dad quietly celebrated from his seat on the couch, congratulating them and grinning. Proud grandparents to the extreme.

I was on my feet before I realised what I was doing, crushing my brother in a hug, all reservations from before forgotten. "This is why you were dragging us all across town, huh?" I laughed. Suddenly, I was glad that we'd come.

He nodded, rolling his eyes. "Yeah; mum would have killed me if I'd just sent you a text." Well, he wasn't wrong.

"Congratulations, Carmen." Carlisle's voice made me glance over at him, just in time to see him carefully hug her. She immediately frowned, no doubt feeling the strapping across his ribs. He distracted her again before she asked. "How far along…?" It was the first logical question that anyone had asked since their announcement.

Her smile was back immediately. "Six weeks; it's probably too soon to be telling everyone, but we can't keep that from family."

Mum, seemingly forgetting that they had already had a baby before, and that said child was about three feet away from her, was set off fussing about how to manage morning sickness, what she was supposed to eat and what activities were good or bad for baby. Good god, I was glad I wasn't a female; I liked mayonnaise too much.

Leaving my parents to their over excited babbling and Kate's whining until she had my boyfriend's attention again, I followed my brother into the kitchen as he began to make cups of coffee - partly because I missed him, but mostly because he made shit coffee and needed supervision if it was going to be drinkable. He frowned upon seeing me with him, suddenly in thought. My confusion heightened as he shut the door behind us. He kept his back against the doorframe as he eventually spoke. "I had an interesting talk with one of the guys at work yesterday."

"Yeah?" It seemed like a dumb conversation to me, but then this was the consequences of us not spending much time together anymore; we were awkward. Why I needed to be physically blocked into the kitchen to have it was another thing, though.

"And I know what really happened with Carlisle," Eleazar murmured, keeping his voice low as he met my gaze.

My heart leap into my throat, but I swallowed the wave of dread and instinctively looked away. "What'd you mean?" I asked slowly. Although I tried to keep my tone light, I didn't have any success.

"I mean, I know he was sleeping with his boss, and it went sour." His expression was stern when I looked up at him, disapproving. "You realise you don't have to stay with him if you think he cheated, right?"

Apprehension was replaced with pure rage. "He didn't cheat on me, Eleazar, his boss abused him and beat the shit out of him; there's a fucking difference," I snapped back, spinning around and starting to spoon sugar into the mugs. I'd rather make the drinks by myself if he was going to be a dick. What a bloody turn of events. "Who told you that, anyway?"

"That's convenient for Carlisle, isn't it? To get 'perks' at work and then get you to swoop in and save him when he's had enough? And the guy is going to prison, but he gets a paid holiday."

"You didn't see it happening; he never wanted it. It isn't like he hospitalised himself for a week and a half, is it?" I growled. "And barely being able to breathe without being in pain is hardly a holiday, Eleazar. We don't know what's happening to his boss either; prison is the best scenario."

He was quiet, but his brows knitted together.

I was quickly losing my temper, fighting to keep my voice low. "Who the fuck told you?" I demanded.

Sighing through his teeth, he came to help me at the sink. "I work with one of Carlisle's friends - Randal?"

I squeezed the bench to remind myself not to lash out. _Dammit, Alistair._ "He obviously hasn't got his facts straight." Jealous more like it, especially if his own relationship was going down the drain. I wondered who's side Alistair would take if I told him, but I didn't really want to hurt him like that, even if his partner was a twat. "And you can't say anything to mum and dad- you haven't, have you?" My heart rate picked up; if this conversation was going south with my brother, it was going to be a mess if I tried to have it with dad.

"No," he grumbled. "I knew you would be pissed if I did." That was the end of it. He fled from the kitchen, into the hallway and out of sight.

My mind was reeling. I couldn't decide whether Eleazar had just taken the news badly, or if Randal really had purposely tried to hurt us. There wasn't a chance in hell that Alistair had started it; he'd already seen the state Carlisle was in, and they loved each other too much for that childish bullshit. Theoretically, he shouldn't have told his partner at all, but it was too late for that now. Whatever the case was, I couldn't let Carlisle find out; he'd lose his shit. It took me a horrendously long time to finish the drinks, until I was brave enough to go back to my family.

I grabbed Carlisle once he was close enough, pulling him into a tight hug. "I love you so much," I murmured past the lump in my throat, kissing his neck as he leaned his head against my shoulder. "More than anything."

"Are you okay, Garrett?" he asked carefully. "What brought this on?"

"Nothing; just don't ever forget that."

.

.

I was still shaken up by the time we got home hours later. The visit had aggravated all kinds of pain for Carlisle, and he went straight to bed once we got in the door. As I helped him out of his clothing and wrapped the blankets around him, I was well aware that I was treating him like my child more than my twenty-four-year-old partner. Despite wanting independence, he was too tired to resist me at that point, not caring what happened to him as long as he could curl up with a book - and Fox, who had inserted herself into the situation without being invited.

He grabbed my hand when I tried to stand up again. "Are you alright?"

I nodded, sitting back on the bed and knotting our fingers together. The lump in my throat wouldn't shift, but I wasn't quite sure what it was that was making me want to have a meltdown. "Yeah, I'm okay," I told him, forcing a smile.

It wasn't convincing; he knew me too well. Unfortunately, he hit the nail on the head when he guessed what was so wrong, knowing before I'd even figured it out. His hold on my hand tightened. "...Do you want kids, Garrett?" he asked softly, almost shy about it.

I shook my head even though my heart wrenched painfully; Carlisle was my first relationship - because I'd never imagined myself with another man before meeting him, I hadn't entirely thought through this part of our reality. I'd never considered _not_ being able to have children, not seriously. Seeing Carmen and Eleazar this afternoon had brought on a pang of longing that I didn't fully understand.

Carlisle forced himself to sit up, shuffling up the bed so that he could face me properly. His proximity to me made me feel more vulnerable than I would have liked, and the urge to have him in my arms was overwhelming. "You want children…?"

I tried to hug him, wanting him closer, and thankfully he moved into me so that I could. "I-I don't know...I love you…"

"I know," he assured me softly, his fingers brushing through my hair. "I love you too." Still, he looked a little sad, and I worried that it was my fault.

"Sorry, I-"

He cut me off with a kiss. "It's normal, Gar, don't apologise; I guess it's something we should have talked about earlier, seeming as I'm your first boyfriend," he chided gently.

"I didn't think it would matter," I mumbled, biting my lip as I realised something else. "You don't want to be a parent?"

"No, not really," he admitted, hesitating a little before quickly carrying on. "But then, I've never been with someone who I've loved, so maybe that will be different this time."

I shook the thoughts from my head; we hadn't even been together two years - there was no point in worrying about kids yet. Besides, I wanted Carlisle far more than I wanted to father anything. Jesus, I could barely keep myself alive anyway. And we currently had the sweetest little purring creature on earth. I scooped her up from where she lay on the other side of the bed, setting her between us. "It doesn't matter right now; we've got a cat."


	64. Chapter 64

**This chapter is far from perfect, but I haven't posted in over a month and needed to tie up some loose ends to move the story forward. Thanks to anyone who stuck around.**

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Elevator rides were always awkward. The generic, lyricless, 'offensive to no one' music didn't disperse the discomfort of your shoulders brushing against a strangers, or the faint odor of wet jackets from the rain outside - or that Carlisle's fingers were around my wrist so tightly that it was starting to make my hand throb.

He was panicking; every breath he took was shaking and he was focused on the floor. Tears threatened to overflow as he fidgeted with the edges of his sleeves, and he eventually gave up on that and tightly folded his arms against his chest, releasing his painful hold on me. I hesitantly wrapped my arm around his waist, wanting to comfort him but worried about provoking a meltdown. His body trembled and the anxiety practically radiated off him. With the ding the elevator let off at each floor, he got more and more worked up, somewhat backing up against the wall. Two floors away, and he burst into tears, turning toward me to get away from everyone else in the small space.

Everyone else ignored him out of courtesy, and I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do about it, short of holding his hand. I reached down to give his fingers a gentle squeeze. The short burst of emotion didn't last long, and he calmed down again fairly quickly, managing to get a grip by the time we reached the right floor.

"Maybe we should just go home- I don't think I need to go in…" He stopped outside the office door, freezing and ringing his hands in front of him.

"Carlisle, you just cried in an elevator; you need to go in." Ushering him forward, I ushered him forward with my hand against the small of his back to stop him backpedaling.

"Garrett…" He was frozen in protest, and I turned to face him.

"You'll be fine. Look...if it's the worst thing in the world, you never have to go back. Just give it a chance." We'd had this conversation a million times over the last few days, and I had thought that he was feeling a bit better about the counsellor, though it seemed like I was wrong.

"Apparently sex is good for depression, maybe we should just try that - that's what you think is wrong with me, right?"

"Hey," I interrupted, hugging him gently. "It'll all be fine. You can go home to bed afterwards, if you want." The anxiety that the appointment was causing was baffling to me, and I couldn't figure out why getting help was so terrifying to him. But, that was why he was here, I guess.

"I don't want to," he blurted out.

I was pretty sure that that wasn't supposed to be verbalised, and he quickly looked away. Sighing, I hugged him, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned his head against my shoulder. "I know, Carlisle. I don't know what else we're supposed to do, if you don't go to this appointment; I need you to try. It's only an hour."

He nodded slowly. "...can you still be here when I get out?"

"Yeah, of course. We can go get lunch or something," I promised, briefly tightening my hold on him. "It'll be okay."

Just nodding again, he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get it off his face as the doctor called his name out. I watched the colour drain from his cheeks, offering him a smile as he threw a somewhat panicked glance over his shoulder at me.

There wasn't really a point in me leaving for an hour, so I sat in the waiting room, playing with my phone to pass the time. It ticked on ridiculously slowly; the hour seemed like an eternity. Eventually, the door creaked open, and Carlisle slowly wandered up to the reception desk to pay for the meeting. I shoved my phone in my pocket and went to stand behind him.

His hands shook so badly he could barely run his card through the machine, and the woman looked a mixture of confused and sympathetic at his behaviour. His company had offered to pay for it, thankfully, though it was presumably to prevent him filing a lawsuit against them. Forcing deep breaths as she confirmed the next appointment, he winced as I touched him.

"You okay?" I asked as we walked out. My arm snaked around his waist, tugging him into place next to me. Although he nodded, he really didn't look it. His posture had somehow dissolved in an hour, and I wasn't sure if he was about to faint or vomit. "Carlisle?"

"I'm fine," he mumbled, stepping closer against my side. His voice was muffled by my shirt as he leaned into me.

The elevator doors opened, and I guided him in. He wasn't paying attention to what we were doing, and tripped over the uneven edge where the floor ended and the elevator shaft began, stumbling into me. I wrapped my arms around him as his weight hit me, my knuckles gently brushing against his jaw as I tilted his chin up so he would look at me. "Do you want to get ice cream?" Mostly, I just wanted to cheer him up a bit; he looked fucking miserable. I leaned down to bring my lips to his.

He turned away as the panic he'd been holding back overflowed. "..Please, Gar, I need to go home; my back hurts…."

I agreed, tightening my fingers around his shirt. "We can go home." It was barely ten o'clock, but neither of us were going to have fun if I forced him to stay out with me.

.

.

After our forth movie for the day, I was falling asleep. My laptop was precariously balanced on my stomach as I tried to hold it where we could both seen the screen, but Carlisle wasn't paying attention anyway. I couldn't touch him without hurting him, keeping my arm behind the pillows instead of around him to try and satisfy a need to be close to him. It was nice, but I knew he was uncomfortable.

He was nervously fidgeting with my hair, running his fingers through it as he leaned against the headboard. Each breath he took was quite shallow, and he was pale when I glanced up at him. The blankets fell away as he pulled his knees up, folding his legs under himself.

I shifted the bedding back while he was off them, sitting up as well. I watched him squirm and become more agitated when he couldn't be comfortable, and hit pause on the movie once I realised that he wasn't going to settle. "You're sore again, huh?" I asked, frowning; it was only an hour after he'd last had pain relief - he couldn't have any more for quite a while.

Nodding, he tucked his arm protectively against his body as he forced a laugh, a little guilty and almost embarrassed. "...want to lie with you, but it hurts..."

I knew he was just shaken up by this morning more than anything else. "We'll figure it out." I shuffled under the blankets, lying down again. "Come here; I promise I won't squeeze you."

He nervously did what I said, lying with his head on my arm as I slipped it around his shoulders. I kissed him softly, rolling onto my side to face him and resting my other hand on his hip. "Is this okay?" I asked, teasing the small of his back with my finger tips.

"Yeah." Forcing a shaky smile, he cuddled into me. His hand lightly traced the lines of my shirt. The warmth of our bodies together relaxed him fairly quickly, his breathing evening out as mine picked up.

While he started to fall asleep, my head was spinning. Tomorrow, it was going to be my first day back at work since everything that had happened. The idea of leaving him by himself while he still felt like shit was _beyond_ unappealing. Carmen had offered to spend my work hours here, pointing out that I'd spent weeks minding Kate through her crazy toddler phase, but there was no way my boyfriend was going to agree to being babysat. He insisted that he would be fine by himself. And, it wasn't like she needed another thing on her plate right now. I still couldn't resist trying it. "Hey, Carlisle?"

Glancing up at me, he gently squeezed my hand to let me know he was listening, too sleepy at that point to provide much of a response.

I swallowed thickly. "How would you feel about Carmen spending the next few days with you while I'm not home? Just to make sure you're alright?"

Thankfully, he was too polite to tell me off for it. "I'll be fine by myself, Gar. I'll just sleep all day anyway." His good hand landed on my chest, rubbing gently.

"I'm just worried about you," I admitted. I covered his fingers with mine, squeezing. It didn't help matters that he was particularly vulnerable tonight.

"I'll be okay," he repeated.

Surrendering, I just dropped the subject.

.

.

I wasn't used to the early mornings anymore. A week of sleep-ins had obliterated my sleeping pattern, and my alarm seemed extra obnoxious as I fumbled to shush the buzzing. I quickly tried to shut it off before it woke Carlisle up, but it was too late. "Stay put," I instructed as I got up.

He didn't heed my warning. By the time I'd gotten out of the shower, I was being handed coffee, though he hadn't managed to conquer breakfast yet while his hand was out of use. Part of me was glad he was awake; at least I could judge how he was - and he seemed okay this morning instead of the mess he was yesterday.

"Please be careful," I pleaded, hugging him as he leaned up to kiss me. "I need you in one piece when I get home."

"You too, Gar." His lips brushed mine again, and his fingers smoothed the collar of my shirt. "I'll be good."

I couldn't be convinced; I knew him too well to know that our definitions of 'good' were very different. Instead, I savoured the feeling of him in my arms and hoped to god he would be okay. ' _He's an adult'_ , I reminded myself. It didn't helped at all. Still, there was nothing for it; I had to work today.

The weather outside had warmed enough that the air didn't sting as I stepped out of our apartment block. My jacket was going to be unnecessary later in the day, but at 8AM I still needed it. I trudged my way to my car, forcing myself to be grateful for the fact it wasn't raining, even if I had to go to the office. There was no way Caius was going to leave my head; he couldn't know that Carlisle was home by himself, but my stomach still hurt as I thought about it.

My boss was almost painfully nice to me. He didn't grumble that I was a few minutes late, or gripe because I hadn't been there in at all the last week. It wouldn't have surprised me if Carlisle's company had called him - they were doing everything in their power to keep my boyfriend quiet. My suspicion was confirmed when I opened my emails and saw that my wages from my time off hadn't come out of my holiday pay.

Riley rolled over to me on his office chair before I could overthink it. His frown was almost a confused smile, like he wasn't sure how to feel. "Have you seen today's paper?" he asked carefully, the rolled up pages waiting in his hand in case I hadn't.

I shook my head; I hadn't bought one since I stopped being inconspicuous about my bookshop visits. "Why?"

It landed on my desk with a slap, a page already open. "This is about Carlisle, right?"

My heart dropped as I scanned through paragraphs, the words becoming scrambled in my panic. His name wasn't there, though. Just Caius's. "...Yeah," I answered slowly, starting to become angry as the bastard's face stared back at me off the page. The article was short and buried deep in the paper, but no doubt people would love the failing of a wealthy businessman - ironically, they'd omitted the gender of his victim though, like somehow that would tarnish his reputation too much. Something else stood out to me too; that bastard was 50 years old. 50 and going after someone less than half their age. No wonder it made my boyfriend feel so awful.

"Incarcerated and divorced - Carlisle will be happy, right?" His smile was careful, unsure how I would react.

I nodded. "Yeah, he'll be pleased." The tightness in my chest eased as I let out a sigh, and I leaned back in my seat, groaning and rubbing my face. I didn't need this at this hour of the morning.

"What's wrong?" His hand was on my leg, squeezing gently. " _You're_ not happy?"

"No, I am," I assured him quickly. "It just scared the shit out of me; I thought that…"

"You thought they mentioned your boyfriend? Would it matter?"

Not wanting this conversation, I turned away to look at my computer screen. "We haven't told my family - I don't think Carlisle told anyone other than his best friend and me." And still, people had drawn wrong assumptions.

"Ah." He frowned and dropped it, starting to roll away again. "Come get coffee with me a lunch; I haven't seen you in years."

I nodded my agreement; I should be buying him his drink considering that he put up with my shitty mood. Folding back the picture of Caius's face so that he wouldn't be confronted with it, I took a picture of the article, hesitating a little before sending it to Carlisle - surely he would be more comfortable if he knew the bastard couldn't get to him again.

.

.

Caffeine made everything better. Riley picked apart a bagel while he grumbled about the problems he was having with his girlfriend, repeatedly apologising to me for his rant, but continuing on anyway. He was entitled to it, seeming as he put up with my sulking. "You want to spend the night at our place?" I offered. The cafe was still quiet at this time of morning, and we'd firmly lodged ourselves in a quiet corner - not quiet enough for me to join him in eating though.

He shook his head. "Maybe if she kicks me out," he muttered under his breath. Eventually, he managed a smile again, presumably catching sight of my expression. "It's nothing that bad, Garrett, don't look so worried. All couples have the disagreements," he chuckled.

"I guess." Fighting so regularly in a relationship was a foreign concept to me, though, but maybe that was because I lived with the most passive person on the planet; when we did fight, the arguments came months apart.

His grin widened. "How's the cat?"

I rolled my eyes and pulled out my phone to show him a few picture. "Getting fatter, and taking over my side of the bed," I grumbled. It vibrated in my hand with an incoming text, and I flipped it around to look at it immediately. Whatever panic I felt dissolved upon seeing that it was from my brother and not my boyfriend, replaced with annoyance instead; Eleazar could wait, seeming as he was being awful the other day.

We stayed in the cafe for as long as we could before heading back up the road to our office block. I was out of breath by the time we reached the top of the stairs, fighting becoming a sweaty mess - I was already sick of the slightly warmed weather. Riley was chuckling, barely resisting laughing at me. I shushed him as I fought off a smile, hugging him briefly before we went our separate ways again.

All day, I waited for Carlisle to reply to my message. He never did. It made me anxious to get home - Caius or not, he'd still been alone all day. I was agitated as I drove home that night, pulling into my car park in a hurry and impatiently tapping my foot as I waited for the elevator. Still, I forced myself to be quiet as I unlocked the front door.

The smell of dinner immediately wafted toward me, and I couldn't resist a smile as my anxiety lifted. "Carlisle?" I set my keys on the table, glancing around for him. There was a dish on the bench, along with his open laptop, a disgruntled kitten on the floor also waiting to be fed.

"Hey, Gar." He hugged me, apparently startled by my entrance. Something was a little 'off' with him, but I couldn't pick it.

"Hey." Pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, I let him lean against me. "You weren't supposed to cook, remember?" I scolded gently.

His face heated slightly as he looked away. "I had to; I keep thinking about Caius…"

" _Caius_ is locked far away from you, and you need to relax," I reminded him. Internally, I was annoyed that I'd sent him the article at all. It was a dumb idea in the first place.

"I know, but he's got kids, and I hate being the one who took their father from them," he admitted. Guilt was creeping in, his hands picking at each other until I stilled his fingers.

"They're better off without him," I grumbled sourly. Needing a distraction, I started dishing up dinner, sighing when I caught the disgusted look on Carlisle's face. "What?"

"...I'm not hungry…" And just like that, we were back peddling again.

I should _not_ have left him alone today. "Just a bit," I grumbled at him. "Come on, you've come far enough to make dinner; you may as well try and eat a few mouthfuls of it." Seeing how unconvinced he was, I gently kissed his forehead. "At least sit at the table with me?"

He nodded and moved away to scoop biscuits into Fox's dish, wincing at the sound of cutlery being set on the table. As sick as he may have felt, the food smelt fucking delicious to me, and I had no qualms about eating. The plates were on opposite sides of the table, like normal, but Carlisle shifted his closer to mine, sitting next to me and sneaking his hand onto my leg as I started to eat.

I covered his fingers with mine. It was an effort not to watch him as he picked at his food, and I forced myself to talk normally to him, rubbing his hand under the table. Once I was done, and he'd shoved his bowl away, I pushed my chair out and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into my lap. "I love you."

.

.

Things were getting better by Friday. I was beyond relieved to have the weekend off with him, lying in bed well into the morning on Saturday. Carlisle had abandoned me and gotten up an hour ago, but I didn't mind so long as I could hear him in the kitchen. A smile spread across my face as I caught sight of his sketchbook on the bedside table; he'd stopped drawing once Caius had started harassing him, and I was more than relieved that he'd gone back to something he enjoyed.

My grin grew as I felt his weight on the bed. He was careful as he crawled up the mattress to be beside me, but still managing to smile back once he got there. I ran my hands up his arms, pleased to feel no sleeves under my fingertips. I could get on board with warm weather very quickly if this was what it meant.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I kissed him gently. "Good morning."

"Morning." He pushed me back into the pillows, his hands on my shoulders as he settled with one knee of either side of my hips. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as our eyes met, playful - or maybe high on pain relief. Either way, I had missed this side of him. His fingers moved, brushed my throat and caressing my face before finding their way into my hair. He cut me off with a kiss as I started to ask him how he was feeling, his lips capturing mine to shut me up.

"I missed you," I admitted once he pulled back. Very carefully, I shifted us sideways, supporting him as I rolled us.

"I never went anywhere," he teased. For the first time in what seemed like months, the normal sparkle had returned to his eyes as he teased me, though he was curious as he looked up at me.

"I missed being close to you," I corrected. My hands moved from his thighs to his back, tracing his spine and shifting my body closer to his.

"I know, Garrett, I'm sorry," he murmured, kissing me again and wrapping his arms around my neck. His lips trailed alone my jaw while his fingertips teased the nape of my neck. For the first time in a long time, my hold tightening around him didn't make him wince. "I'll be okay now... _We'll_ bed okay now."

For the first time in a long time, it actually seemed like that was going to be the truth.


	65. Chapter 65

**I had to reupload this chapter because I read through it a few hours after I posted it and there were some huge grammer errors, but there's probably some more that I missed.**

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I was quickly discovering that cuddling wasn't so great in the summer. The heat was insufferable with my boyfriend's body wrapped around me, but Carlisle craved the affection whenever we lay down. It was unconscious on his behalf - he just wanted to be hugged - but I was sweating and too uncomfortable to sleep. Even just in my underwear, the heat of his body against mine was sweltering.

I gingerly tried to loosen his arms around my waist so that I could pull away, untangling my legs from his and rolling onto my back once I was free. Although I breathed a sigh of relief, it only lasted a few seconds before he was against me again. It was futile really.

Kicking off the blankets, I hoped that might be enough, slowly rubbing his arm as the movement made him fidget.

"...you okay, Gar?" he mumbled, pressing a soft kiss against my neck.

"It's kind of warm," I admitted, not wanting to openly push him away.

Thankfully, he took the hint, shifting back a little but still holding my hand to maintain the contact. "It's barely the beginning of June, Garrett, how are you going to cope next month?" he teased me, squeezing my hand lightly.

"With lots of fans," I groaned. It was already the worst and I was sweating just thinking about it.

He just laughed, waking up a bit now. It was literally the middle of the night, but he'd thrown his sleep schedule off quite terribly seeming as he didn't have to get up at a strict time every day. "Do you want some water?"

I'd never understand how he was still wearing a t-shirt and long pants, but I used his clothing to hold him in place, starting to laugh as well. "No, just get back in bed." Secretly I was just pleased that he was moving so comfortably after being in so much pain for so long. I snuck my hand under the edge of his shirt as he lay back, tracing his spine. "Are you feeling better?" I asked softly. Unable to resist a smile as he nodded, I rolled onto my side to face him.

"Yeah; I'm going to go crazy after a few more weeks of time off, though." He was laughing a little bit now, and I relished the sound.

"Take them, though," I warned. "You'll only hurt yourself if you go back too soon."

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This was the conversation I'd been dreading. Theoretically, it was my call whether we went or not, but I knew Carlisle would be upset with me if I cancelled without talking about it with him, and I _really_ wanted to go. "Yeah, we're still coming camping," I assured my father, trying to keep the doubt out of my voice. If the worst came to the worst and my boyfriend wasn't well enough, it wasn't going to kill anyone if we pulled out last minute. It would just suck. Dad voice his approval down the phone line.

The trip wasn't for another few weeks, which meant that Carlisle would have a bit more time to heal, and would have the brace off of his wrist by that point, and he'd insisted that he would be fine every time I brought it up. We'd already organised for Alistair to baby-sit Fox - or had asked him to come and check on her a couple of times to make sure her food and water dishes were full, and he'd not so subtly suggested he'd rather take her to his place for a few days. Things were all set to go.

As I set down the phone, my eyes landed on the mail sitting on the bench. Carlisle had brought it in last night, and everything with my name on in was still unopened. One envelope stuck out; I was sure it was a bill, because no one ever sent me anything else, but I didn't immediately recognise the company logo on the front. I ripped it open with my teeth and pulled out the thick wad of paper.

A month until my lease on the apartment expired. Just Great. The rent had gone up too. Even better. I'd always planned to pack up and leave when this day came - I had no attachment to the place, and had only moved here out of convenience. It was a little harder to move when another person was involved, though. The new contract burned in my palm as I considered our options.

Carlisle came up behind me while I was frowning at the letter, his arms automatically around my waist. "What's this?"

I handed it to him and waited to judge his reaction. It was a bit of a comfort that he didn't immediately frown. Mostly, I just didn't want to stress him out when things were finally getting better for us. Choosing a house with him was appealing though.

"Are we moving or staying?" He kissed my throat, handing back the contract. There was no anxiety in his voice which automatically calmed me a bit. He leaned against me, prompting me to wrap my arm around his waist.

"I don't know...I always thought I'd move, but what do you…?" I asked, carefully broaching the subject. The last thing I wanted to force him into something that he didn't want. Moving was huge, and stressful enough without someone else throwing you into with.

A shy smile tugged at his lips. "I'd really like to find a home with you, Gar."

Warmth rushed through my body and my heart skipped a few beats, and I put the paper on the bench to deal with later. Coiling my arms around him, I pulled him tightly against my chest, bringing our lips together. "We'd only have a month to move, though," I reminded him, trying not to let my hopes get too high.

"We can do it," he assured me. "Unless you don't want to?"

"No, I do. It's just that moving has never gone smoothly for me, and it makes me a bit nervous," I admitted. "And I wouldn't want it to make you sick." Considering he'd moved countries, it was entirely likely that he was far more competent at it than I was, though, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

"I'm not working for the rest of the month anyway," he reminded me. "You don't need to worry about me, but if you'd rather stay here another year, then we can do that and plan for it a bit better."

I thought for a moment, squeezing him a little tighter. "I guess it would be the ideal time to move, seeming as one of us will be off. Every time I shift, it's chaos because I have to do it around office hours."

He kissed me again, obviously wanting to soothe me. "Then we can look at places together, and I can do the packing while I'm home?"

This could actually work. I nodded slowly and rested my chin on his shoulder as I thought it over. "We could get somewhere a little more appropriate for a cat?" The creature in question was currently perched on the kitchen windowsill, watching birds on the powerlines outside. It would be nice if our apartment had a bit more ventilation from outside for her, instead of recycled air.

"Yeah, and closer to your family, if you wanted?"

"I'd like that a lot."

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Going to work didn't provoke the same worry as it did the week before. The early mornings were still far too early, but I trusted Carlisle not to do something stupid while I was away. If he took the pain medication, he'd just sleep all day anyway, which was more than fine by me. Things didn't seem to hurt him as bad either; he was well on the way to getting his independance back, not really needing my help to cope anymore.

As usual, my alarm woke both of us up. As usual, we bickered a little about him staying in bed while he wanted to get up. As usual, he wasn't about to be told, and stayed awake while I headed to the bathroom.

By the time I'd gotten out of the shower, he still hadn't made it out of bed, sitting with his legs folded under himself and having untucked one of the blankets to wrap around his shoulders. I eavesdropped while I found my clothes, a little confused as to who thought it was okay to call someone at seven in the morning. It was my phone he was holding, and the ringing must have annoyed him enough to answer it. I silently cursed whoever it was. He offered me an apologetic smile when our eyes met, mouthing 'Eleazar'.

I almost groaned. It was never a good thing when my brother called me, especially this early in the morning. He'd better behave himself while he was talking to Carlisle too. I waited impatiently for the call to end, and then looked at him expectantly.

Still sleepy, he crawled across the bed to be in front of me. His fingers were cold as they brushed my waist, and he tried to pull me down to sit beside him. I did as he wanted; now that he was fully awake, I wasn't opposed to cuddling. "I'm watching Kate this afternoon," he told me.

The idea wasn't appealing to me at all; having to entertain a boisterous five year old was not going to be an easy task for someone who was in pain every time they moved, even if he was a lot better than before. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked wearily. I tucked the blanket tighter around him as he leaned his head against my shoulder, carefully shifting him into my lap.

"Carmen isn't feeling well." His hands worked their way free of the blanket, his arms slipping around my waist.

"Neither are you," I frowned. "The injuries you have are a bit more, ah, _severe_ than morning sickness, Carlisle."

"It'll be okay, she's a good kid," he argued, pressing a kiss against my jaw. "It'll only be a few hours, anyway, and then Eleazar will pick her up after he finishes work."

I sighed through my teeth, already stressed about it. "I can take the afternoon off work-"

"I'll be fine, stop worrying, Gar. She'll only want to watch TV anyway." He was right, but it didn't make me feel any better.

I kept my arms around him for a bit longer. Too soon, I needed to finish getting ready for work. "I'm going to be late," I murmured.

He kissed me again. "Have a good day, Garrett."

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I shut the front door as quietly as I could behind me, unable to wipe the smile off my face. Wrapped up in a blanket in front of the TV, Carlisle was half asleep, lying on the couch with Kate sitting on the seat in front of him. He had his arm wrapped around her to stop her falling, while she babbled nonsense at him about whatever Disney movie they were watching and he pretended to listen. Fox was curled up with them as well, nuzzling into them both. After all my worrying, it looked like things had gone well after all. He looked a little worse for wear, but generally okay.

"Are you hungry, Katie?" he asked her tiredly, straightening her clothing as she twisted to get down onto the floor. She'd never wanted to sit with me like that on the couch, so no doubt having Carlisle babysit her was a novelty. At least she was behaving for him.

She shook her head, giggling, and sat on the floor to finish watching the movie.

"Okay, but tell me when you are and I'll order us dinner," he mumbled, folding one arm over his face to block out the light. Her energy was enough to give anyone a headache, so it wasn't surprising, really.

"Can we go to the park again after?" she asked excitedly, spinning around to face him again. That would be the reason that he was so exhausted; too much physical activity was still a no-go.

He tried to smile at her. "It'll be dark soon; it'll be too cold." There was no point in reasoning with a five year old, but I'd obviously forgotten to tell him that.

"Can we watch Cinderella after this?"

"Sure, Kate, whatever you want." He just wanted her to settle again. Once she was sitting, he gathered Fox into his arms, pulling her to his chest to cuddle her as she purred. The kitten seemed to be quite a comfort to him, at least.

I crept over to them, leaning down to brush his hair off his face and kiss his forehead. "Hey."

He managed to smile this time, sliding one hand around the back of my neck to pull me down for another kiss. "Hey…"

"Uncle Garrett!" Kate pounced on me immediately, climbing my legs in demand to be picked up.

"Sit up," I told Carlisle, nudging his shoulder. I sat in his place once he had, wrapping my arm around his shoulders and scooping my niece up with the other. "Have you been good, Miss?"

"Yeah…we went outside and ran around a bit, so she's been well-behaved," Carlisle mumbled to me. "Do you want something to eat?"

"No, I just want you to stay there for a bit; you look exhausted. What've you two been doing all day?"

"Nothing, we just went to the park, and we've watched movies the rest of the day." The crafts on the table said otherwise, but I didn't pull him up on it.

Squeezing his leg, I just hugged him as much as I could. "Tired, huh?"

"Hmm…I took the pain killers before and now I can't think straight." He leaned his head against my shoulder, kissing my neck. "Are you up to watching Cinderella with us? Apparently it's the best movie of all time," he asked, teasing as he glanced up.

"Of course," I promised. Princess movies really weren't appealing, but cuddling definitely was. As soon as Kate got off my knee, I pulled Carlisle into my lap, hugging him tightly and kissing every inch of skin that I could from that angle. It was a relief to be able to shift him like that again.

He hummed contentedly and leaned into me. "…shower with me when Carmen picks her up?"

"Yeah."

It didn't quite work out like that, though. Carlisle fell asleep ten minutes later, cuddled into me and exhausted. I got Kate and I dinner and put Carlisle's in the fridge for later, leaving him wrapped in the blanket on the couch while my brother collected his child. He was slightly pissy when I answered the door, so I was glad it was me dealing with it and not my boyfriend. It was going to make camping a little uncomfortable if he kept up that attitude though. After that, I deemed it bedtime. "Carlisle," I nudged him awake before pulling him to his feet. "Let's go lie down."

He stumbled into me, sleepy and not very coherent. I kept my arms around him until he was in bed again, and then helped him out of his jeans and jacket. "Love you…"

"I love you too. Are you hungry? Dinner is in the fridge."

He shook his head though, already falling asleep again.

I gave up on both him eating and us showering, getting comfortable as well before slipping into the sheets beside him. "Thank you for looking after her. You're amazing." Smoothing his hair off his face, I kissed him gently. As he cuddled up to me, I kept my phone and headphones close, figuring I could watch videos with it while he slept since it was still early.

"She's a good kid." His voice was muffled by my clothing, but I knew he wasn't really up for conversation now anyway.

Nevertheless, a twinge of sadness lodged in my chest; we'd never have that together. I thought moving might help, if I could build a home with Carlisle, but never being able to have a family of our own was never not going to be a sore point.

Carlisle noticed immediately. His hand was suddenly on my arm, squeezing. "We have to talk about this, Garrett…"

"Let's not," I pleaded. Already my eyes were burning. "Carlisle, I don't even want to think about it- I can't-"

Despite being half asleep and already comfortable, he sat up and crawled closer to me, his fingers finding mine. "I know, but I don't want you to be miserable every time we spend time with your brother and his family."

"I-I don't know what we're supposed to do about it, though - we _can't_ do anything about it…" I swallowed thickly. "I just...I think I just need time to process it. I'd never thought about it at all until Carmen announced that she was pregnant, and it hurts more than I thought it would…" Needing him, I reached for him, thankful when he immediately melted into my arms.

His lips met mine in a soft kiss. "Okay, Gar, just tell me how I can help." It didn't take long for him to settle again, staying close to me and gently tracing my chest with his fingertips.

I stayed awake for a while. In some ways, I'd never fully come to terms with being gay. It was a weird thing to suddenly become aware of at 26, just for one boy, and I'd never considered any other guy in terms of anything romantic. Carlisle had tried dating girls, so at least he'd had the opportunity to rule that out as something he liked, but I'd never done that. I'd only ever been with him. And the curiosity was still faintly there. That was probably something we should talk about too; maybe he could help me. It was kind of an awkward thing to want to ask about though; 'hey, I'm gay, but I still sort of like women'. It was going to be a slap in the face for him too, especially with the kid thing on top of it. Perhaps I should just keep my mouth shut.


	66. Chapter 66

**Sorry it's been awhile; I haven't given up, I've just had the pleasure of exams. This chapter is rather short, but the camping chapter should be up either tomorrow or the day after, all going well.**

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Our evenings were suddenly filled with trawling the internet for possible apartments together. If nothing else, I loved the bonding time it gave us, and I enjoyed every second of it even if it was turning out to be a little stressful trying to find somewhere that we could rent with a pet. We both started collecting real estate pamphlets whenever we were in town, and we now a small stack of them on the kitchen counter. It was finally Friday again, and tomorrow would mark the first day that we'd go and look at a handful of potential houses, and I couldn't wait. It was also only another week until we were supposed to go camping.

It was almost midnight by the time we shut the laptop down for the night. Neither of us had eaten since I'd gotten home from work, and my stomach was growling in protest. "Are you tired?" Carlisle asked, leaning against me while we sat together on the couch. He was wide awake and I doubted he would settle for a while.

I shook my head; for someone who had gotten up before seven, I felt fine. "Do you want to go to the store? We can get camping stuff?" A midnight adventure sounded kind of fun to me, and there was a 24 hour department store about ten minutes drive away. Snacks sounded good too.

It only took a few minutes for us to pull on jackets and shoes and make our way down to the car. It was still fairly cool outside, and I wrapped my arm around Carlisle was we walked out into the carpark, noticing him cross his arms to retain heat. He stepped closer into my side.

We didn't really talk as we drove the few streets over, and I tried to work up enough courage to finally ask what I'd been dying to. "I really need to ask you about something," I started awkwardly. I anxiously picked at the steering wheel while I waited for him to respond, carefully watching his face.

He nodded, throwing a confused glance in my direction. "Sure, Gar."

"I love you so much, and I don't want you to think that I regret any of this, I'm just confused…" I swallowed thickly, waiting until he prompted me before continuing. "Obviously I'm gay, because I'm with you and I wouldn't change that for anything...but you're the only guy I've ever found attractive and I was always into women before this - even if they never came near me," I forced an awkward laugh, hoping like hell that I wouldn't see any hint of hurt in his face. "Was it ever like that for you?"

Thankfully, he just squeezed my leg. "No, not really. I had a girlfriend because she was the only person who was kind to me at the time so I thought I liked her, and the Sunday school my father sent me to was adamant that same-sex relationships would get me sent straight to hell. I've only ever liked guys...but maybe 'gay' isn't the right term for you, Garrett," he suggested softly.

I'd never considered that. It made a bit of sense though. "Is that weird for you? If I'm…?" Bi? Was that right? Was it important at this point?

"No, of course not. You're with me now; that's the only thing I have to worry about." His reassurances relaxed me a little bit, and I reached for his fingers. "It doesn't make a difference to me what you are, Gar, so long as we love each other."

"Okay." We kept driving toward the department store, eventually pulling into the car park. I hesitated before I opened my door, grabbing the back of Carlisle's sweatshirt as he started to get out. It jerked him back enough that his door slammed again, and he started laughing at the abruptness of it all. The words caught in my throat, and the car was suddenly filled with a tense silence.

"Whatever it is, it's alright. You can say it." He kept his voice soft, shifting in his seat to face me. His hands were on mine as soon as he noticed the discomfort on my face. "Just ask me, Gar; it's fine."

The silence grew tighter as I stuttered to find the right way to phrase the question, but nothing seemed right, and I felt like a fucking idiot for even needing to bring it up in the first place - we'd been together well over a year. "How long did it take you to...uh...be 'comfortable' with yourself? I mean like, um, in terms of your…'orientation'?"

"Awhile. Are you not feeling good at the moment?" He didn't look hurt, thank god, but worry instead.

"I'm okay...just a little bit unsure of myself…" I explained carefully. I kept my eyes on our fingers, unable to look at him any more.

Somehow, he managed to twist in his seat enough to lean over the gearbox to hug me. "I love you, Garrett, what can we do to make this better for you?"

I just shook my head. "Nothing, don't worry about it. I guess it'll go away eventually. Let's just go get this stuff; I'm hungry." Attempting a smile, I finally slid out of the car. I felt a lot better with it off my chest, keeping a tight hold on Carlisle's hand as we wandered the aisles. He had no idea about camping, and it turned into a 'what to expect in the woods' lesson more than a late night shopping excursion. This was also the first trip which I needed to own a tent for; every other time I'd been, Eleazar and I had shared, but aside from the fact that we both had partners and wouldn't physically fit anymore, it would be awkward as hell for Carlisle to be there if my brother was still snappy with him.

As we discussed it, I could see Carlisle getting more and more frustrated with the choice of tents in front of us, though I couldn't pick why. "What?" I asked eventually, curiosity getting the better of me.

He groaned, rubbing his face with his good hand. "I'm going to do something wrong, and we're going to be mauled to death by a wild animal in our sleep." It was only half a joke; he was completely clueless.

I had to laugh at that. "Dad has a gun license; they'll only be able to get a nibble before facing his wraith if you scream," I teased. "You're barely a snack anyway; I'm sure the wolves will come straight for me."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," he grumbled, starting to laugh despite himself. "I'll probably fall and knock myself out on a rock before we make it to the campsite."

"It's nothing that treacherous, Carlisle, you know my fitness doesn't allow for anything too awful." Pulling away from the cart, I locked him in a hug before he could overthink it. "It'll be fine." It took a moment for the tension to sink from his shoulders, but it eventually did, and I gently tried to guide his attention back to the equipment.

He didn't question me as I put things in the cart, just doing what he was told and keeping out of the way. "Is your brother still upset at me?" His fingers pulled at the plastic coating on the handle of the cart as he avoided looking at me. "Alistair said…"

"He'll get over it. Eleazar didn't say anything to you, did he?" Stopping him at the end of the aisle, I kissed his cheek.

"No, he didn't speak to me at all last time we were there," he mumbled.

"I've already spoken to him; he's got no reason to act like that," I grumbled. "Don't worry about it, Carlisle, he can be as sour as he likes and sit in a ball of misery if he wants." I knew it was hurting him, even if he wasn't going to tell me that, but I really didn't want it too.

"Randal is a pain in the ass," he muttered under his breath. "He'd not even that nice to Alistair; I don't know why they're together."

"Alistair doesn't think I'm that nice to you," I laughed, nudging him with my elbow. "That's a double-ended sword; you two are just protective over each other." It was the first time that my boyfriend had really voice an opinion on Alistair's partner, and his analysis made me chuckle a bit; the two of them were fine together, from what I'd seen.

"He _knows_ you're nice to me, he'd just trying to wind me up," he argued, biting back a smile. "They only fight all the time anyway - we _never_ fight like that; they're weird together."

"I think we're the 'weird' ones there, Carlisle," I teased.

"Maybe," he admitted. His hand found mine, squeezing gently as we continued wandering around the store. We'd found everything we needed and it was nearing 1am, but it was nice being out together without being stuck in a crowd. I was trying to nonchalantly guide him toward the food aisles, and he was either pretending he hadn't noticed, or was truly oblivious to my ulterior motives. "Why don't we go somewhere with actual food, Gar? All this is crap."

"This _crap_ is what Americans run on," I chuckled. "We can stop somewhere else if you really don't want to eat any of this." Catching his waist, I pressed a kiss against his cheek, heating creeping into my face as he hugged me and his fingers crept under my shirt. "Let's just get out of here."

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We got up early the next morning to head out to the first property. Now that the day was here, the only thing keeping me awake was Carlisle's excitement; I could have easily spent the rest of the morning in bed. All the viewings would be over by 3pm, and I couldn't wait to go home for a nap, despite having only just left the house. My stifled yawn turned into a frown as we pulled up outside the first place.

The building was nothing like it seemed in the pictures. "This is the right place, right?" I asked, glancing at Carlisle while he studied the GPS. Unfortunately, he nodded and slowly opened his door. It was an almost instant 'no' from me, though it would be rude to leave without even looking inside. I knew it was making Carlisle nervous too; all the way to the door, he glanced around, anxiously watching the assortment of lurkers around us. In the elevator, he stayed close against my side, somewhat creating a barrier between me and the bulky guy against the other wall who seemed intent to stare at us the whole time. It made my skin crawl and it didn't make me any happier that it was my boyfriend between us.

It didn't get much better once we were inside the apartment. It was cramped and run down, far too cold and rather damp. We barely peeked in all of the rooms before getting out of there as fast as politely possible. "I really don't like it here," he whispered to me as we got closer to the car.

"I hate it," I whispered back, unable to keep from laughing at our bewilderment. The day didn't get much better. Everywhere we looked was either filthy or way out of our budget, and no one wanted tenants with a cat. It was rather disheartening, and I just wanted to curl up in bed again.

Carlisle was in much better spirits about the whole thing than I was. "I guess we'll be doing this again next weekend, huh?" His attempt at lightening the mood had come after he noticed my silence.

"I guess so. This is what I hate about moving," I grumbled, not about to come around that easily. "And it can't be next weekend; we'll be in the middle of the woods."

"The weekend after, then," he teased. When I refused to be reconciled, he reached for my hand. "I know it stresses you out, but we can do this. We'll be fine."

"It's so frustrating; it's always awful," I insisted.

"You're not doing it by yourself this time though. And this was only our first day looking; we can't expect to find somewhere this quickly."

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Despite not having a new place to live, Carlisle spent the whole week packing and organising, presumably trying to take his mind off camping more than anything else. It was nice to see him relatively happy though. The councillor insisted he had some kind of eating disorder, but I was sure he was slowly putting on weight again, and he wasn't so self conscious in front of me anymore.

That didn't stop me being nervous about him being unsupervised. I'd made him wait until I'd finished work for the day before he went to the doctors to get the brace off his hand - something he wasn't entirely pleased about. He only allowed it to humour me. I was sure that I was more worried about it than he was.

"Why is this freaking you out so much?" he asked as we arrived in the carpark. "It's going to take five minutes, and I'm sure they'll come to the conclusion that my hand is still attached to my body."

"I just don't want anything to go wrong when you're by yourself." I locked the car, avoiding looking at him in case he was mad at me.

"There's nothing _to_ go wrong, Garrett." He seemingly wasn't concerned, squeezing my hand as we walked in.

I lingered back a bit while he spoke to the receptionist. I knew I was killing his relief about the whole thing, but I couldn't help it after watching him struggle for so long. Standing in the doctor's office while they cut it off him, I wasn't sure if I wanted to look or not - if it was as bruised as it was when it first happened, I was going to lose my shit at Caius all over again.

It couldn't have been more 'fine' though. He could move it without much pain, and was over the moon about having the use of both hands again. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Feel better?" I asked, a little sheepish now it was over.

He nodded, starting to tease me. "I can finally cut up my own food again; you won't have a toddler anymore."

I laughed, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. "I didn't mind having a toddler, but I _am_ glad that I know you can fend for yourself now. It's going to make camping a lot easier too; you'll be able to swim."

The door swung shut as we left the building, and Carlisle tripped over it, stumbling into my side. "We're swimming?" It had made him stop walking and turn to face me.

"The campsite is next to a lake, Carlisle." I nudged him forward as someone else tried to escape the building while he continued to block it. "What's wrong? You _can_ swim, right?" I suddenly felt stupid for not asking sooner, pulling him aside as other pedestrians pushed past us.

"Yeah, I can...I just haven't done it since I was a kid," he explained quietly.

"You don't have to worry; nobody is going to force you into the water if you're uncomfortable," I assured him.

He just shushed me, starting to smile. "It's a good thing, Garrett; I'm not nervous."

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	67. Chapter 67

**The promised second chapter...I'm posting it now after correcting any mistakes I immediately noticed, but I'll fis and reupload it if I find anything too major that I've missed. Thanks for sticking out (:**

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Something about my boyfriend in hiking boots and a hunting jacket, a little dishevelled by our early start, made me hot under the collar. He caught my smile, returning it with a shy one. The day was so new that it was still dark when we got into the car. Thank god, we'd had a the forethought to pack our stuff into the trunk the night before; I was barely awake enough to get dressed. The early hour made the air a little cool, and both of us had opted to put on jackets before leaving the house.

We picked up some coffee from a service station on our way out of town, loading up on snacks while we were there. The drive was going to take us a good eight hours and there was no way I was going without food for that long. Seeming as the trip was so long - and it was so early I was half-dead, - we'd decided that Carlisle would drive the first couple of hours until we were far enough past the outskirts of the city that he would start needing directions, and then we'd swap.

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The country around us was gorgeous, but the novelty was quickly wearing off while we were sitting in the car. There hadn't been another vehicle in miles, and the isolation was getting to me a little bit. We'd been driving for hours, and the roads were windy as hell. I sighed in relief upon seeing a sign for a rest area up ahead; I was bursting to go to the bathroom, and Carlisle looked rather ill from the twisting hills.

He relaxed upon seeing it too. "Hey, Gar...can we stop for a little bit? I'm getting really carsick …" he admitted shyly, confirming my suspicion.

I reached over to squeeze his hand. "Are you okay to keep going until the rest stop, or do you need me to pull over now?" I glanced at him again, trying to gauge how desperately he needed to get out of the car.

"I'm okay," he mumbled, looking away and locking our fingers together.

Kissing the back of his hand, I focused on the road again. Well, that, and trying not to pee my pants. It was only another mile until the car park came into view. The wave of hot air that rushed into the car as I opened the door was like a slap in the face, and I was instantly too hot. "Ugh." I pulled my jacket over my head as I tried to wipe the grimace off my face. God bless air conditioning.

Carlisle had taken shelter under a tree by the time I came back from the bathroom, lying back on the grass with one arm folded over his face to block out the light streaming through. I came and flopped down next to him, my hand landing on his thigh.

"You okay?" I chuckled. Apparently I wasn't the only one that the heat was wiping out.

"Can we go for a walk? There's trails here, right?" he asked. Forcing himself to sit up, he propped himself up on his elbows. My dubious expression prompted him to elaborate. "If the roads are that windy the rest of the way, I'm going to puke."

I nodded. Walking was not what I considered 'fun', but I also didn't want to make him feel sick. "Yeah, come on, then." Before we went, I took off as many clothes as I could, shushing my boyfriend as he laughed at me.

The tracks were well shaded, thank god. A faint breeze blew into us as we walked, and Carlisle linked our fingers together. It was actually enjoyable despite it being exercise. We picked a trail - a longer one than I would have liked, but the prospect of a lake had him pleading with me to do it, wanting to take pictures or something. "There's water next to where we're staying," I reminded him. The slight incline had winded me, yet Carlisle didn't seem affected at all.

His excitement to be exploring the countryside was almost childlike - and fucking adoreable. Moving so much must have made him uncomfortable, but he wasn't about to let it stop him if it meant we could go somewhere pretty. We had the whole place to ourselves, which was nice at least.

By the time we reached the lake, we were both sweating. Carlisle's cheeks were faintly pink, which made me pretty certain that I was bright red, and I'd be more than happy to stop and sit for a bit.

I'd forgotten how perfect this area was. The lake, deep and a rich blue, stretched across to the base of a cliff, the power of a gentle stream turning into a more forceful waterfall as it reached the drop and poured over the edge. The area was lined with flat boulders, tufts of thick grass sprouting between the rocks. The clearing was entirely surrounded by trees, with only the path entrance as an opening.

I settled down on one of the rocks, stretching my legs out in front of me. A smile was hard to suppress as I watched Carlisle pull out his phone and edge closer to the water to take a few photos. Aside from the rushing of the stream and the sound of the birds, the place was quiet. I let my eyes fall closed as the shade started to help take some of the heat of the day away, listening to my boyfriend's quiet footsteps as he moved across the dry leaves.

"Want to come for a swim?" He was grinning at me when I looked up at him, his hand wet from touching the surface of the lake. His phone was back in his pocket, and he was already pulling his shirt of his head.

"Carlisle," I chuckled. "We're still in public, remember."

"It isn't public if there's no one here to see it," he told me, trying not to laugh.

"You're crazy." I shook my head. It _was_ a little tempting; it would make the trek back to the car more pleasant. Still, it made me a little nervous that someone could walk up here at any time.

He came towards me, kneeling on the ground in front of me to gently bring our lips together. "Maybe, but it might be fun?" Another kiss, his fingers raking through my hair. He was testing my self control, and he knew it.

I smiled and ran my hands up his sides. "You're not feeling sick anymore?" I checked. The last thing I wanted was to push him if he still didn't feel good - though judging by his behaviour, he was fine.

He shook his head. "I'm okay now that we've been outside a while. It's nice out here." For a while he stayed with me on the ground, stealing kisses and letting me pull him into my lap. Being so close together quickly made both of us far too hot, though, and he got up. The pull of the water was too much.

"I'm not sure about this," I admitted, nibbling my lip as I watched my boyfriend strip down to his underwear.

"The water is warm, Garrett," he teased. "Just come."

I just shrugged; if nothing else, he looked fucking amazing all wet. And there weren't people around. At the moment. "I could just watch you swim," I offered.

He rolled his eyes at me and jumped into the lake, disappearing under the surface for a few seconds before resurfacing. "Take your clothes off and get in. You were complaining that you were hot."

Groaning, I reluctantly did as I was told, easing myself into the water one leg at a time. It wasn't shockingly cold, but it wasn't exactly warm, either. I very quickly realised that I couldn't touch the bottom, panicking for a few seconds when I slipped under before gaining traction and managing to float again.

Carlisle apparently didn't have the same issue, stealing kisses whenever I was stable enough not to sink under the water at the distraction. We swam across to the other side, where the boulders were smoother and water was a little shallower.

My feet were firmly on the sand, but it was still over my boyfriend's head, and I locked my arms around him to stop him slipping under as I pressed my lips against his neck. He wrapped his legs around my waist, tangling one hand in my hair and lightly tugging.

Realising that he was stable, I ran my fingers down his back, gripping his thighs. He gasped as I jerked his underwear down as much as I could, feeling his face become warm as he leaned his cheek against my shoulders. His hold on me tightened, one hand digging into my side while the other pulled my hair.

It was bit of a confidence boost, knowing I could get this reaction out of him when I'd barely touched him. I didn't dare try anything too drastic; water was one thing, but it would still be uncomfortable for both of us. Instead, I brushed my thumb over his hips, working my way down before finally touching him.

Using my free hand, I gently tilted his chin up so that I could kiss him, smiling as he couldn't muster enough coordination to respond. "You're cute like this," I accused, brushing his hair off his face.

He shifted against me, and I groaned through my teeth at the change in sensation, grinding against him the best that I could. Smiling as our eyes met, he worked his way into my boxers, stroking me gently. His rhythm was terrible while I was touching him, but I wasn't mean enough to take my hand away. I knew he wouldn't last long now. Heat surged through my body, and I was grabbing him wherever I could.

Leaning against me, his breathing quickened, unsure where to hold onto me as I pushed him over the edge. "I love you," he mumbled, settling on pulling my hair until he could think again and his body relaxed.

After catching his breath, he started to stroke me again. As he built up a steady rhythm, all I could do is groan and curse. I had to really concentrate on not letting him go as my heart rate picked up and I gasped for breath. It wasn't long before I was riding out my climax, humming quietly as his lips brushed mine before leaning in for a proper kiss.

I was sweating again now, despite being mostly submerged in cool water. I could feel the heat from Carlisle's body as well, and his cheeks were flushed a light pink. Holding my hand against the side of his face, I slowly untangled myself from him. "We're not going to make it to the campsite in time to put our tent up before dark if we carry on like this," I warned.

He nodded, groaning quietly and pushing back to swim away. He disappeared from view for a seconds, submerging himself to cool off. I copied, hoping that the heat might leave my face. By the time we were back on the bank where we'd left our clothing, I was panting for a different reason.

Pulling clothes on while I was still wet was disgusting, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. It made my shirt cling to me a little too tightly, but it had the same effect on Carlisle, and I really wasn't complaining about that.

I wrapped my arm around his waist as we walked back to the car, smiling to myself. "Ready to go camping?"

.

.

It was just on dusk when we pulled into the carpark, and then we were loading ourselves up to hike out to the camping ground. We'd mostly dried out now, but I suspected Carlisle was getting a little nervous about the whole experience. The heavy pack immediately made my spine ache and I frowned. "The weight isn't hurting you?" I asked as I adjusted the straps of the backpack against his collarbones; it can't have been good for his back.

He just shook his head. "How far do we have to go?" he asked as our feet crunched against the dried leaves, skipping forward a few feet to grab my hand. He moved surprising easily, despite the weight against his shoulders. His fingers were cold in mine, and I let my thumb trail across the back of his hand.

"Not far," I promised. "You know how unfit I am; it's nothing too intense." As if to cement my words, I tripped on a couple of tree roots, stumbling into him as he wrapped his arms around me to stabilize me.

That made him laugh, and he nodded, managing to smile a little. "Okay."

"Tired after our swim?" I teased, chuckling when the question made the heat rush to his face.

"...yeah…" he admitted, nibbling his lip as he thought about it. Quiet until we made it to the camping ground, his fingers tightened around mine as we were greeted by my family.

A fire was already crackling loudly in the middle of the camping site, and bags of snacks were being handed around. Perched on a log, Eleazar grinned as he saw me, but he refused to look at Carlisle. "What the hell took you two so long?"

I just rolled my eyes at him while my boyfriend shifted uncomfortably. "We're here now though, aren't we?"

He threw a torch at me. "Hurry up and set up your tent before you need that, and you're doing it in the dark. I hope you're not as useless at putting up a tent as Garrett is, Carlisle." I was fairly certain that he knew that this was a new thing for him, and that he was just trying to wind him up, but Carlisle didn't seem all that worried anyway.

I _was_ useless at it, but I grumbled at him for calling me out on it anyway. "Shut up, Eleazar." With the pressure of not looking like an incompetent idiot with a tent in front of my family and boyfriend, and Carlisle's complete cluelessness about the task, it took a good hour to get everything secured. I just hoped it didn't come crashing down on us during the night.

The way my family has settled around the fire was rather inconvenient; the space in the circle they'd left for us meant that we were between my brother and my father. I waited to see what Carlisle was grade as 'less hostile'. Faltering for a second, he sat next to dad with an awkward smile. They'd waited for us to have dinner, and everyone was very eager to eat now we'd _finally_ sorted ourselves out.

"How's work, kid? You're up in the offices now?" Dad nudged Carlisle while his elbow. His attempt at conversation made my heart sink, and I instantly saw the anxiety on my boyfriend's face. I put my plate on the ground, shifting a bit closer to him.

He immediately looked down, stuttering to answer him.

"Not anymore he's not; he fucked his boss and got a paid holiday out of it when he got sick of it," my brother spat out, glaring at him. Everything was suddenly silent. Not even the insects in the forest around us made any sound. Eleazar's words hung heavy in the air. I wondered if he regretted them; he looked faintly uncomfortable. My parents frowned, but no one said anything.

Carlisle's breaths caught as his cheeks burned. "It wasn't like that- it was to keep my job so I didn't have to have to go back to London, and I was scared of him, and-"

"And he's locked up because you couldn't keep your hands to yourself-"

Dad's frown grew until I was sure it was permanent. It wasn't my boyfriend that he seemed mad at, though. "That doesn't have anything to do with you, Eleazar; he doesn't need you tormenting him as well. Enough."

I could have hugged my father. If this had gotten out of hand, I would have lost my shit at my family, relations or not. Instead, I just pulled my boyfriend closer, hugging him and pressing a kiss against his cheek. He leaned his forehead against my shoulder and avoided looking at everyone. The rest of the night was very quiet, no one saying much and everyone going to bed early.

.

.

Despite the heat in the tent, I knew Carlisle was going to want to be close to me that night; he was a bit nervous - he fidgeted and froze at every sound outside, and was wide awake despite our long day. I purposefully slept in my underwear, using the unzipped sleeping bag as a blanket rather than getting in it. Sure enough, he hesitantly shuffled closer to lean against me. "You doing okay?" I whispered.

"Yeah…" he whispered back. Despite it being awkward in the sleeping bag, he curled into my side, resting his head on my shoulder. "It's odd being outside though."

Trying to stifle my laughter, I kissed his cheek. "You'll get used to it; it's peaceful," I promised. I tugged the zip on his sleeping bag undone and slipped my arms around him - there was no way he could be cold if we were this close together. It prompted him to mould his body to the shape of mine, his hand coming to rest on my stomach. "Are you alright after tonight?"

He nodded. "Your parents don't seem upset with me, so I guess so." In truth, they were more upset with Eleazar. Dad had pulled him aside and scolded him like a misbehaving child while Carlisle had been distracted, and I as pretty sure that the shame of that alone would stop him making another smart ass comment for the rest of the trip.

.

.

Dad seemed to have taken it upon himself to make up for every 'father and son' activity that Carlisle had missed out on, but I couldn't tell whether my boyfriend was actually enjoying it or not. He looked bewildered as my father set about showing them the correct way to cast out a fishing line, but the gesture was sweet. There was no hesitation when dad touched him anymore, and they accidently bumped each other continually as Carlisle failed miserably at following his instructions. Dad was chuckling, eventually taking the pole from him and untangling the line.

"Sorry...I'm really clumsy," Carlisle told him sheepishly. He partly looked like he was waiting to be scolded, but it only made dad laugh.

"I have to agree with you there, kid, yet your artwork is so delicate. Come; I'll teach you how to set the lines in the boat, or you'll be getting wet later." He ushered him toward the water, already dragging out the oars.

"...You've seen my drawings?" Carlisle asked quietly, watching unsurely as dad set everything up. His face was burning already and he threw an accusing glance in my direction. I shook my head at him as we made eye contact - I'd never shown my parents anything after he'd told me not to.

"Well, I saw what you painted on Kate's cast when she broke her arm," he reminded him. "That kid loves you, even if he father can't keep his mouth shut when it's best." That was for Eleazar's benefit as he came to help pull the boat out, and only resulted in him guiltily ducking his head. Dad handed Carlisle a paddle to hold once he'd seen the bewildered look on his face.

"...won't that sink with all of us on it?" His eyes traced the frame of the wooden body, trailing over the patches dad had put in place when Eleazar and I had run it into a bank when we were children.

"You aren't fishing from the land, kid. You'll never catch anything," he chuckled, amused. "You're coming out with me and Eleazar tomorrow - boy's trip; the women stay here, Garrett included, usually."

I only just suppressed rolling my eyes. "Thanks, dad."

He just shot me a grin, but his expression softened again as he looked at Carlisle. "If you hate it, Carlisle, I'll bring you back here and you can stay on dry land as long as you please. I just want you to try it first; you might like it." Squeezing his shoulder as he passed him, he offered him a kind smile. "You'll be fine, I won't let you drown."

"Thank you," I whispered to dad once he was close enough, unable to bite back a smile. This was everything I wanted out of this trip.

He frowned a little. "He can swim, right?"

"Yes," I laughed, fighting blushing. "He's just nervous; he can swim fine. But be careful - he gets motion sickness and I know he'll be too shy to say anything-"

"If he starts looking green, I'll bring him back in," he assured me. "I won't even take him out of sight of the shore, if you think he's going to be too anxious, but he's not a baby; you're babying him, Garrett."

"The last few months have been really difficult and-" I started to defend, only for him to interrupt again.

"And this will help to take his mind of it. He's enjoying this - I think anyway, he's probably too polite to tell me otherwise," he chuckled to himself. We both looked over at my boyfriend, who was now caught in a very, _very_ awkward conversation with my brother. They were both refusing eye contact with each other, and I suspected - hoped - that Eleazar was apologising.

All too soon, the three of them were clambering into the boat, dad keeping a firm hold of the back if Carlisle's life jacket as he tried to settle without slipping. I forced myself to look away and keep my mouth shut; dad had promised to look after him, and it would be fine. Thankfully, mum and Carmen immediately dragged me into their conversation.

.

.

They returned after only about forty minutes. Normally they disappeared for hours at a time, and my immediate conclusion was that my boyfriend wasn't feeling well. Sure enough, Carlisle looked a little queasy, but he was grinning at me all the same. "I caught my first fish," he told me, holding up the line. To his credit, it was actually big enough to be edible. I caught him as he stumbled out of the boat, relaxed once I had him in my arms again.

"It's a better catch than you've ever made, Garrett," Eleazar teased me. He was right, the bastard.

"Shut up, I'll stick to cooking them," I grumbled back. Cooking did not under any circumstances include gutting, though. _Never_. Instead, I pulled my boyfriend into my arms, hugging him tightly. "Need to go for a walk?" I asked in a whisper. It was too hot to hold him like this for long, but some time out would be nice. I felt like I'd barely seen him since we got here.

"Yeah," he mumbled into my shoulder. "I don't think I'm made to go on a boat." He kissed my neck before pulling away, reaching for my hand. It went unnoticed by my brother and father - they were already hauling their wooden craft back into the water as soon as possible. We did the same thing; I slowly lead him away toward the hiking trails.

We tripped and stumbled our way up one of the steeper tracks, somewhat dodging the far too sunny patches. The path was dry and dusty, the loose dirt giving way under our feet and sending us sliding every few feet. We were both getting torn to shreds by the little stones, but our clumbyness was making Carlisle laugh, and that was making _me_ laugh, which was making everything more difficult. I was partly regretting the suggestion to come up here; I'd always refused when my family tried to coax me into it after I'd suffered through it the first time, and hadn't been dumb enough to want to do it again. Still, the map promised a nice view, and perhaps another place to swim, and mum had given me lunch to take with us, so the sweating would be worth it.

"Are we there yet?" I half-grumbled. Puffing, I held my footing once I was stable enough, trying to catch my breath. Carlisle had climbed a few feet ahead of me, but stopped and turned to face me when I spoke. Somehow, he wasn't bright red. I pushed my hair off my face with the back of my hand to try and stop it sticking to me. My shirt was clinging to my back, and I cursed myself for not doing any physical preparation for this trip in the weeks leading to this.

"You're the one holding the map," he pointed out. The bit of paper was screwed up in my pack, and I knew I would off-balance myself if I tried to get to it. "Come on, Gar, it can't be that much further." He offered me his hand to pull myself up on.

I groaned, but took it. We'd come this far, and there wasn't much point in going back down now. "Alright." We trudged on and on, by it was still another hour before we reached the top. "Carlisle, we gotta sit down for a bit," I whined at him, panting between words. I was sure I was about to overheat and _die_ , and this was only confirmed when I saw that he was a little out of breath too.

He rolled his eyes at me but reached out to grab my sleeve, pretty much dragging me over to an old tree, _finally_ letting us collapse under it. The towering branches provided a shelter from the sun that immediately soothed me, and eventually my heart started to slow down again. I risked stripping off my shirt and tried to pretend we weren't in public. Carlisle's hand left mine as he dug out our water bottles, handing me mine and starting to dig out our lunch. We ate in silence, just listening to the rushing of water around us and the sounds of the birds.

"This is the most I've ever enjoyed trips like this," I admitted. Despite the heat, I slipped my arm around his waist and tugged him closer, smiling when he immediately cuddled into me.

"I love you." He kissed my throat, his lips brushing along my jaw until they met mine. "I can't wait until we find our new home together."

"Me neither, Carlisle," I smiled. Unable to help it, I ran my fingers through his hair, brushing it back off of his face. It didn't stick to him like mine did to me. "I _am_ a little worried about finding a place with such short notice; I don't want to end up signing the lease for our old place again just because we don't have enough time to get somewhere suitable."

"We can do it," he soothed. "I know you're nervous, Gar, but it'll be fine."

"You're too calm about this." Sighing, I leaned against him, my forehead against his shoulder.

He only tilted my chin up with his thumb in order to kiss me again. "When I moved over here from the UK without anywhere to live, but someone still leased me an apartment even though I barely had a job and couldn't put down a deposit and was pretty much still a child; we're financially stable adults - we'll be alright." His description of us made us both chuckle a little - it seemed far too serious as a title, thought it was what you would hope you would be as a person over 21. "Don't stress about this while you're supposed to be on holiday; we can do all that when we get back."

I rolled my eyes, but ultimately did agree with him. My gaze followed him as he got up to take a picture of the view, telling me he wanted to sketch it when we got back home. The stream next to us became his next target, and I found myself grinning. "Are you up for swimming again?" I teased him, laughing when it earned me a playful glare. Suddenly, I wasn't against the idea at all; the water wouldn't be as deep as the lake, but it'd be just as cold. I stole his phone from his hands and gentle tossed it on top of my t-shirt on the ground, tugging the hem of his shirt.

He watched me as I kicked off my boots and undid my belt, but eventually copied me. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him after me, both of us laughing as the coolness of the water sucked the air out of our lungs. It was far, _far_ colder than I had anticipated, coming from high on the mountain, and it killed the heat of the day instantly.

.

.

We spent the rest of the afternoon in and out of the water, only disturbed by another couple once when they stumbled into _our_ clearing. I considered drowning myself, or perhaps floating downstream enough to fly over the waterfall further down, when my worst nightmare became true as they wandered over to ask how far they were from the end, and I was caught in my underwear by someone other than my boyfriend - my boyfriend who apparently had no qualms about helping them and holding a conversation for far too long. The only saving grace was that we had only been talking when they approached.

It was getting close enough to dinner that I called it a day after that, going back to our stuff to get dressed again. "What on earth is wrong with you?" I grumbled when Carlisle did the same, unable to keep the embarrassed amusement off my face.

"They needed help, and I'm pretty sure we're the only ones up this trail to give it to them," he teased, grinning at me.

'They didn't need an entire conversation that badly while we were half-naked!"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure they thought you were cute, Garrett, I couldn't worry about it." He left me to grumble as he pulled on his clothes, tying his shoes before walking away from me. For a split second, I worried that he thought I was _actually_ mad at him, but instead, he wandered over to the tree, catching hold of one of the lower-hanging branches and pulling himself up. I watched nervous as he made his way up a few branches further, getting higher and higher until I felt a bit sick.

"You're just got the brace off of your hand - you're going to hurt yourself, Carlisle. If not that, you're going to upset your back, or - you're going to hurt your _something_ if you don't get down!" I scolded, going to stand under where he'd gone. "Carlisle!"

His quiet laughter filtered through the leaves. "I'm not that high, Gar; come."

"I am not getting up there; I'm really not aerodynamic," I reminded him sharply.

"How long had it been since you last climbed a tree? Just come up," he teased again.

"I never climbed trees - I didn't have a death wish," I told him.

"Not ever?"

"No, not ever."

"Then come; I promise I won't let you fall to your death. This is my first time camping, this can be your first time climbing a tree. Just the first branch; it's what? Four feet off the ground? You won't hurt yourself." The click of his camera quickly gave away what the actual motive of hm getting up there was. Still, as much as I didn't want to get up there, I _did_ want to get up there.

I knew my ascent was far less graceful than his. It took me three attempts, and I was out of breath by the time I managed. "Where are you?" I asked once I was stable. Without thinking, I hauled myself up the branches I thought I'd seen him use. All too soon, I was way too high, but I'd managed to get to Carlisle. My fingers dug into the bark so hard it was hurting as I firmly lodged myself against the tree trunk and the branch he was on. I managed to sit there semi-comfortably and without risk of falling, but couldn't actually get close to him until he took mercy on me and shifted closer. He gently pulled one of my hands away from the trunk to hold it, easing the pain there. I refused to take my eyes off of him out of fear of getting dizzy if I looked at the ten foot drop below us. He took a few more pictures, and I waited until my anxiety lessened enough for me to be able to breathe properly.

"You said before you didn't have anywhere to live when you came here? How did you…?" This stuff was still normally off limits, and there was a lot I didn't know about Carlisle that I could never find a good time to ask.

He squeezed my fingers. "I stayed in a backpackers - it really wasn't ideal, but it was better than being at home, so it didn't matter at the time."

I tried to gauge his emotions, hoping I wasn't about to upset him. "And you lived with your father the whole time you were in London, or did you move out?" I pressed carefully.

"I lived with him. For a while, I spent a lot of time at my ex-girlfriend's house, but she moved away with her parents, and it was too far to go regularly," he explained quietly.

"Esme, right?" I'd heard the name once or twice before. "You told her about what was happening with your dad?"

"Yeah. I didn't tell her anything, but I think she knew, or at least guessed a lot of it; we knew each other for years, but she only ever came to my house when I was sure that nobody else would be home, and then she only saw certain parts of it. Her parents knew too, I think - they were always so nice to me." His nervous fidgeting seemed less than it usually did when I brought this up, though he still tightly held my hand. "She was the only person that was supportive when I told her I was gay; she helped me a lot."

"Do you still talk to her?" That came out in a rush, and I repressed a groan as I realised it would make me sound like a jealous asshole. "I didn't mean it like that; just...you two must have been close; do you miss her?"

"I miss her, but we don't really speak anymore; her boyfriend is kind of a dick, and I don't want to upset their relationship." He looked away, the fidgeting stopping. "I wanted to tell her when my dad died, but she'd just had a baby, and…"

 _That could have very easily have been Carlisle's child._ My heart squeezed uncomfortably, and I shook the thought from my head. "Tell her now," I suggested. Forcing myself to let the tree go with other hand, I enclosed Carlisle's in both of mine.

"It's not worth it now, Gar. I'd rather just focus on us." That was enough of a cue for me to know he'd had enough of the conversation, and I dropped it.

"Come on, let's go back; I don't want to be hiking out of here in the dark."


	68. Chapter 68

**As usual, I'll be back to fix any major errors, I just wanted to get something up since it's been so long.**

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I was _not_ up for swimming before eight in the morning - I was barely even awake. The birds and the light streaming through the tent right on dawn was enough to disturb Carlisle, who was apparently too uncomfortable to lie down any longer. He'd scrambled out of the tent and into the sunlight, leaving me groaning and dragging my sleeping bag over my head.

It was Kate that had decided it was time to get in the water. She'd gotten straight into her bathing suit from her pajamas, bypassing clothes altogether. I heard Carmen tell her no, that it was too early to be in the lake and that she wasn't doing it without her father, and the child's whining protest which eventually turned to tears. Still, by the time I dragged on enough clothing to come out and emerged from the nylon walls, she's convinced Carlisle to wade in waist deep.

The current wasn't very strong this morning, and Kate was doggy-paddling from him, to the shore, and pack again. The water can't have been over her head, but he was catching her every time he reached her anyway. The kid was wearing goggles and had already been fully submerged, though he was obviously hesitating now he was in.

Carmen smiled at me once she noticed I was up, coming over to offer me a hot drink. "She refuses to let Eleazar teach her how to swim, but she was all for it as soon as he suggested it," she chuckled. "She loves him to bits."

I sighed. "I know her father is pretty 'anti-Carlisle' at the moment, but thanks for letting him spend time with her; it makes him feel good, and he needs that…"

She frowned. "He may be being terrible, but I have nothing against your partner, Garrett. He's just trying to protect you, I guess."

"Protect me from what? A five-foot-something, 120-pound, bookworm? He's hardly threatening. I mean, sure, he can outrun me, but what's he going to do once he catches up?" That was for Carlisle's benefit as I spoke loud enough for me to be overheard, earning myself a playful glare as he rolled his eyes at me.

My sister-in-law laughed at our interaction, lowering her tone again. "The experience obviously hasn't tarnished your relationship any."

"No, of course not; I love him more than anything. It's made us stronger if anything - well, as far as our relationship goes anyway; I'm still scared of breaking him."

"You'll marry him, then?" She nudged me with her shoulder, obviously teasing, but my face still warmed and my heart beat a little faster.

"Jesus, Carmen, one thing at a time," I teased back, fighting off my reaction to her words. "But we are looking at moving house at the moment - somewhere right for us, that we choose together. I really want that for us, you know? Somewhere that's _ours_ and not mine which he moved into."

A warm chuckle bubbled out of her chest. "So traditional, Garrett. Are you also going to ask his father's permission for his hand?"

My smile fell, and the urge to have my boyfriend in my arms was suddenly overwhelming. "He doesn't have that, Carmen," I told her softly. "He never did."

It took her a while to form a response as her face fell. "...oh…" She swallowed thickly. "Then it must mean a lot to him that your parents have finally accepted him?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it does." Kate barrell out of the water then, charging at her mother and babbling something about being hungry. I took the opportunity to grab a towel, wrapping it around Carlisle's shoulders once he was close enough. That horrible vulnerable feeling was gone once I was touching him. "Good morning," I murmured, kissing his throat, his cheek, along his jaw until our lips met. "What's this running away before saying hello?"

"You were asleep," he teased, briefly leaning against me before moving off so I didn't end up wet as well.

"I was not," I laughed. "You made too much noise for me to be asleep." And he had been that tangled in _my_ bedding, that he'd had to wake me up to get free.

"I beg to differ; you can't snore when you're awake," he grinned, laughing when I pushed him off balance.

"I wouldn't have been so tired if you hadn't have wanted to go climbing a damn cliff face," I laughed.

"It was barely a slope, and you were the one who didn't want to get out of the water," he reminded me. Joking as it was, the debate immediately became awkward when my brother emerged from his tent to see what the laughing was about, and Carlisle was immediately watching the ground.

I hugged him again, wanting the nervousness off his face. "Go and get dry, and I'll take you out after breakfast," I whispered. He nodded and slunk away, and I ignored Eleazar completely.

.

.

Dad had come out and captured my boyfriend before we'd had the chance to get away, completely absorbed in showing him how to gut the fish they'd caught yesterday. Carlisle couldn't have cared less, and was actually starting to look a little sick - it was something that I'd always refused to learn because of the smell and mess as well. After a few minutes of silence, dad glanced back at him, chuckling a little. "Do you need to sit down, Carlisle? Don't pass out on me. You're almost as bad as your boyfriend, you know."

A rush of warmth flooded my body as he referred to me as that. If nothing else, this trip was going solidifying a good relationship between them, and I couldn't have been happier. Coming up behind Carlisle, I wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed his cheek. "Not a fan, huh?"

"I'll finish here; you two don't need to stay." He was hiding a smirk and trying not to laugh, but he _was_ a little pale and there was no hiding it.

"Good. Let's go for a walk." I tugged him backwards a few steps before letting him turn around, lacing our fingers together. He squeezed my hand tightly, whispering a 'thank you' once we were out of earshot.

We spent the rest of our last day in the wilderness wandering through different tracks that made me oddly nostalgic. I made sure to take Carlisle up to all the places I used to sneak off to when I was a misbehaving child, and Kate decided to tag along for part of the day, becoming my boyfriend's shadow until her short legs were worn out and I had to carry her back down to her parents. Part of me was glad; I wanted Carlisle to myself for the rest of the afternoon before we were busy again for the rest of the week.

Like the day before, we packed a picnic and headed out into the forest. We purposefully picked an easy track, and Carlisle kept his fingers linked through mine as we wandered under the canopy of trees. There was no promise of water this time, but a good lunch and some time alone was enough to keep me happy.

I'd had the forethought to shove a blanket in the bag, and we settled under a large tree with it underneath us. The sun filtered through with the leaves above us with each cool breeze, sending scatters of shadows across the grass. I lay back with my arm folded behind my head, letting my eyes fall closed briefly but keeping my hand on Carlisle's waist. My fingertips traced the edge of his t-shirt, eventually sneaking underneath to brush against his skin. "Hey."

His quiet laughter was almost too soft for me to hear it as he shifted away, but he quickly leaned back, resting his head on my stomach and relaxing against me. I wrapped my arm around his chest to nudge him closer. "Hey."

"You've liked it here?" I asked. It had been my most enjoyable holiday by far, and I couldn't imagine ever doing it without him now, especially since dad was being so good with him. The thought was almost painful. He hummed quietly in response, unwilling to disturb the peace around us as he nodded, lightly trailing his fingers along my forearm. My smile was inevitable.

.

.

The light had changed drastically the next time I opened my eyes, and with a slight jolt I realised I'd fallen asleep for awhile. I propped myself up on my elbows and glanced around, confused. "Carlisle?"

"Right here, Gar." He shifted on the blanket, crawling closer to kiss my throat, his fingers in my hair. He hadn't gone far - just leaning against the tree we were under a few feet away.

"You didn't wake me up," I accused, grabbing his wrist to stop him taking his hand back. It only took one pull to off balance him, sending him falling into me and locking him in my grasp.

"Why would I?" he teased. Still, he melted against me, locking one of my legs between his when I rolled over to face him. "Though I was going to soon; it has been like _three hours_." This time his lips brushed my temple, his hand trailing down the side of my face as he pushed my hair back.

"Jesus, you _should_ have woken me up." I coiled my arms around his waist, shifting back enough that he could rest his head on my shoulder while we lay together. My eyes wandered around our makeshift campsite, trying to pick what might have been able to amuse him for so long. His sketchbook was tossed onto our bag, a pencil tucked into the pages, and it was a clear giveaway. I repressed another smile but didn't say anything. "Hungry?" My stomach growled on cue and we both laughed, Carlisle untangling himself from me to get to our food.

"Sure, Garrett."

My hand remained on his thigh as he set about digging out our lunch. For some reason, I was unwilling to break the contact between us, needing to touch him. My attention was quickly distracted though; he was handing me sandwiches and coffee in a thermos, and I wasn't about to complain. The food somehow tasted better out here by ourselves. I never wanted to leave.

.

.

It didn't take us half as long to pack up and shove everything back into our cars as it did to drag it all out. Everyone was rather subdued as we tidied the campsite, sad to be leaving, but I found it hard to dampen my spirits about the next few weeks; not only would we be reunited with Fox tonight, but moving apartments didn't seem like such a chore anymore, and I was almost looking forward to it now I'd had a chance to clear my head.

Dad gave Carlisle a warm, though somewhat awkward, hug before we left. His eyes flicked to me, and then back to my boyfriend as he lowered his voice. "Thank you for being so good for my son; I'm sorry we got off to a rough start. I shouldn't have put you through that, you're a good kid." His hand remained on his shoulder for a few seconds while Carlisle glanced up to meet his gaze.

"Thanks, sir," he managed to get out, obviously pleased but still rather shy. Something about the situation pushed him back into formalities, and instantly my father was frowning again.

"You really don't have to call me that, Carlisle," he insisted. "You're obviously a permanent part of this family; it's going to get weird eventually." The last part was a joke but not entirely so. Dad had spent the entire weekend trying to give him the 'father-son' experience he'd missed out on as a kid, and I knew what he was hedging at now. I just wasn't sure whether Carlisle was brave enough to do it.

Sure enough, he realised what he meant, his cheeks reddening as he glanced down at his feet. The words seemed to choke in his throat. I smiled in encouragement when he looked over in search of me, and it seemed to be enough to prompt him. "Thanks, dad."

Dad was instantly grinning, hugging him again and squeezing him a little too tightly before coming after me with open arms. "You boys have a safe trip."

.

.

Driving back home seemed extra rough now that we didn't have something to immediately look forward to. I was bored shitless, and we had to stop every half-hour or so to keep Carlisle from getting too nauseous on the gravel roads. I was stupid enough to try and push him to wait a bit longer, but it only ended in him getting sick in a place that was inherently difficult to pull over.

We ended up stopping in a little town in the middle of nowhere for drinks and snacks. Seeing as he still looked a little 'off', I made him sit with me on the seats outside, a table between us and little birds at our feet. "I'm starting work again next week," he told me quietly. For the last half an hour, he'd been almost silent, just taking careful sips of his soda but ignoring his food.

"Are you ready? They said you could take more time if you needed to." My hand found it's way onto his leg before I registered I was doing it, tracing the inside seam of his jeans against his thigh. It wasn't enough and I swiveled around to be in the seat next to him.

He sunk his teeth into his lip. "I guess so; physically, I feel fine, I'm just nervous…I don't know what I'm actually going to be doing; my old 'job' doesn't actually exist now that Caius is gone. I don't want to be put back in another weird position." He was mumbling, trailing of anf not really wanting to tell me.

"They won't do that to you again; they're too scared of being sued," I reminded him softly. "You're getting worried now it's coming closer?"

"Yeah. Coming home suddenly made it a lot more real," he admitted. "I'm sorry; I didn't want to ruin the end of our holiday like this; I just can't stop thinking about it."

"You're not ruining anything; I'd rather you told me." It was too hot, but I hugged him against me anyway, rubbing his back as he instinctively rested his head on my shoulder. "It'll be alright, Carlisle." It _was_ going to be alight, or I was going to cause enough of a fuss that they would _make_ it alright for him. He was going to be safe, and no one was going to get in the way of that.

"I love you," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss against my neck.

"I love you too." I waited until the colour returned to his face again before suggesting that we drive a bit further. He still hadn't eaten, but I hoped it would help to calm the motion sickness a little if he had an empty stomach. It was the promise of his cat that made him push to keeping going, and I was starting to suspect that he'd had more than enough for the weekend. It _had_ been a lot all at once.

.

.

Randal wasn't home when we stopped to pick up Fox. Alistair was a little 'off' too, wanting to hug Carlisle a little too long and not his normal teasing self. "She's a cute little cat; I can see why you like her so much," he told us, handing the bundle of fur to my boyfriend but never fully removing his hand, still stroking her ears. Fox was purring loudly, whiskers pointed forward and unphased by the contact from two people.

"Do you want to keep her for another night, Al?" he asked softly. It obviously hadn't escaped his notice either.

"No, I'm sure she misses her parents. I'm trying to convince Randal we need a pet too, but he's not having it." Alistair couldn't stop his frown as he mentioned his partner. Still, he quickly smothered it. "We need to get dinner or something again soon; I never see you, and when I do it's because one of us is miserable." They went back and forth a bit with dates, Alistair just wanting the conversation and Carlisle still trying to figure out what was happening, while I tried not to selfishly focus on the word 'dinner'. It would be fine. It would have to be. I had just dragged Carlisle into the middle of the woods and he hadn't freaked out once, so I could handle a bloody meal.

As if reading my mind, he reached to find my hand. "What about seeing a movie instead, Al?"

Alistair watched our silent interaction closely, distracted as he agreed. "You guys are really good for each other," he murmured eventually. The sadness in his voice only prompted another hug, put he pushed Carlisle away after a few seconds. "You should probably go; Randal will be home soon, and he'll only be nasty. And I have to clean up." _And he was making excuses all three of us could see though._

.

.

Carlisle didn't bother putting Fox in her carry crate in the car, wrapping her in his jacket and holding her on his lap instead, wanting to stroke her. Their reunion had definitely been a happy one. "You missed her," I teased. "We were only gone a few days, Carlisle."

"Yeah, but she's special; _you_ got her for me, and she's always so good when I'm home by myself, and…" His cheeks heated and he focused his attention intensely out the car window. His hold on her became a little tighter, his hand trailed up her back to rub the top of her head. Still, he was preoccupied, and not with the cat.

"You're worried about Randal," I guessed, sneaking my hand onto his knee.

"I don't give shit about Randal; I'm worried about Alistair," he replied abruptly.

"Alistair isn't the kind of person to take crap from someone," I reminded him. "I don't think he would stay with him if he was unhappy."

"He needs to be around people; he'd stay with him if the alternative was living by himself again." Sighing, he forced himself to rub fox. "He'll sort it out, I guess."

"It isn't your fault, if that's what you're thinking, Carlisle," I told him quietly.

"...I just don't want him to be hurt…"

"You can't protect everyone; he can hold his own." I squeezed his hand and dropped the subject, not wanting this negativity to follow us in the front door. Right now I was that damn tired that the only things that sounded good to me was showering and falling into bed.


	69. Chapter 69

We spent the next few evening scouring the internet for vacant apartments, rushing off to viewings whenever we could and still finding nothing suitable. I was quickly losing my new-found hope to be able to move, starting to suspect that we'd be stuck where we were for at least another year. Carlisle refused to lose faith in the whole thing, constantly reassuring me that it would be okay and that it would all work out. I was trying really hard to believe him. He'd gone as far as to pack most of our belongings into boxes before he had to go back to work, and my heart ached when I thought about having to undo it all.

.

.

I knew Riley was irritated with me. We were supposed to be having lunch together, but I was struggling not to tune him out and my responses were half-ass. Carlisle had sent me a few photos from an ad in the paper, wanting to know if I would go with him to see another place tonight. Part of me wanted to blow him off, but the rest of me knew I shouldn't.

My coworker got annoyed and stole my phone from my hands before I could text him back, grumbling. "You're not even listening, Garrett." He typed something out quickly, presumably sending it before I could stop him.

"I know, I'm sorry," I sighed, trying to smile as he passed me my phone back. "I'm just-"

"'Worried about moving',' he said in what must have been intended to be my voice. "I know; just go with Carlisle and see the place, and then stop thinking about it. You've done hardly anything today, and you're going to get yelled at if you carry on like this," he pointed out.

He was right, of course, and I nodded slowly in agreement; there wasn't much else I could do. "Sorry, Riley. When is your mother-in-law leaving?" I asked, remembering his last complaint. I hoped it would get him talking just so I wouldn't have to, and sure enough, it set him off on a rant immediately. As horrible as it was, I was partly glad I'd never have that experience with Carlisle.

Once time was up, we paid for our drinks and headed back to the office. I really didn't get much done for the rest of the day, but by some miracle my boss didn't tear me to shreds over it. Carlisle agreed to meet me outside of work so we could go straight to the apartment, and I was in a bad mood before I even got to him. Still, any hard feelings about all of it dissolved a little once I saw him. It wasn't quite so bad once I could hold his hand.

He still noticed, though. "What's up? You're very quiet." The light pressure he put on my fingers let me know I wasn't going to get away with sulking.

"I'm just tired, Carlisle; I want this to be over," I told him. A movie and bed sounded like the best plan, but I wasn't getting anywhere near it tonight.

"If it's awful, we don't have to stay," he reminded me softly. "Do you want me to drive?"

I knew he really didn't want to, but I handed him the keys anyway; it _would_ make things a little easier - he knew the address, and I didn't have a clue. We made our way there in near silence, except for the radio playing quietly in the background, and I watched as the streets slowly became less dirty, the houses slightly further apart and the yards properly fenced. Where we lived at the moment certainly wasn't the worst, but this was far more appealing. Perhaps looking wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.

.

.

The place was slightly smaller than it looked in the pictures. And a little more expensive than either of us had planned on. But it was _perfect._ Just from standing in the kitchen, I could easily see us living here. It wasn't cold like the other places, having insulation in the walls, and it had a balcony despite being seven levels up. It overlooked the cleaner parts of the city, and the neighbourhood was far nicer than the one we were currently in. We'd have an actual car park instead of roadside parking, and it was a lot closer to both of our jobs. I glanced at Carlisle, trying to gauge his feelings about it before I said anything; I didn't want to pressure him into anything, considering the extra cost.

He took my hand as the real estate agent led us down the hallway. The main bedroom would get the morning sun each day. There was gas plumbing, meaning we'd get endless hot water so long as we paid the bill. And, best of all, pets were allowed. Carlisle gently squeezed my fingers, turning to look at me as we were briefly left alone in a room. "I really like this place," he admitted, almost shyly. I guess that he felt the same about as I did about talking about it.

"Me too," I murmured. My hands found his waist, tugging him closer so that I could hug him. "I like it a lot."

"And it would be okay to have Fox."

"We could put our name on the list?" I suggested softly. Theoretically, it wasn't committing to anything; the landlord could deny us and choose more suitable tenants. The thought of getting this place still made my heart race, though.

He nodded with a small smile. "Yes." Leaning into me for a second, he pressed a kiss against my neck.

.

.

Unfortunately, the only activity Randal and Alistair could agree on was lunch. I wasn't about to be mean enough to put Al through the argument to get his partner to give in to a movie, so I'd just have to grin and bare it. It wouldn't be so bad seeming as Carlisle would be there the whole time. They'd picked a cute little restaurant in town - most likely with my boyfriend's persuasion seeming as I doubted they would normally have chosen somewhere so quiet.

Hostility wasn't something I'd expected though. The air was tight as we met each other and Alistair was frowning, tightly squeezing Randal's wrist as his boyfriend glared daggers at mine. Carlisle just looked confused, attempting to smile at both of them and stepping forward to hug his friend. Randal's hand shot between them and shoved him back into me. "Don't," he snapped.

Alistair hissed something under his breath at him, offering Carlisle a sorry smile and allowing the affection despite the cloud of disapproval standing behind him. "I missed you," he told him softly.

"You only saw him a few days ago," Randal grumbled.

"Well he's nicer to me than you are," he retorted, still holding Carlisle's wrist and refusing to drop it. "Can we just order lunch without an argument, please?" Offering us a sorry smile, he led us inside, leaving me with Randal while he and Carlisle idly chattered about us moving soon. I didn't even attempt to speak to Randal, not after what he'd told Eleazar. He could sit alone in silence for the rest of the day for all I cared.

We ordered our meals and Carlisle guided us to sit in the quietest corner of the place, seating himself close next to me and holding my hand under the table. Despite the foul taste Randal was putting in everyone's mouth, the food was going down surprisingly easily. Every time I hesitated Carlisle's hand would tighten around mine in reassurance, keeping me from freaking out every time I got panicky. It wasn't me that lost my cool in the end.

"For god's sake, can you just be nice to him?" Alistair scolded as Randal made yet another snide comment. Obviously pissed now, he banged his fist against the table, causing a loud bang and making his partner jump. "If all you're going to do is sulk, you should have just stayed home."

"I'm not sulking, I just don't want to be around someone who's clearly trying to get between us," he grumbled back.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't be pathetic; he's never done anything to you."

"If he was fucking his boss, what's stopping him from trying to get to you-"

Annoyed with the accusation, Carlisle finally lashed out. "If Alistair and I were going to be together, it would have happened long before you two ever met," he snapped.

"Garrett's brother doesn't like you either-" he started, only to be abruptly cut off.

"Eleazar doesn't like me because _you_ lied to him," he defended, trying to keep him voice low. I'd never seen him get so fired up over anything - he wasn't quick tempered normally - but this was obviously hitting a few raw nerves.

"I'm not the liar here, Carlisle," he spat at him. His hand whipped out, hitting him hard across the face and balling his hands into fists. "I wasn't the one fucking my boss." His voice was too loud, echoing around the room.

A wave of awkwardness washed over us. The restaurant had fallen silent, everyone staring at us as Carlisle's cheek stung and Randal loomed over him, Alistair and I looked at each other wide eyed. A tense minute passed while Carlisle just watched the table top to avoid everyone else. Oddly enough, he just started eating again, forcing the food down his throat and ignoring the three of us.

The violence shocked me so much that I couldn't respond. I just copied my boyfriend and tried to make myself swallow. Alistair did too. No one spoke, we didn't look at each other, and the rest of the restaurant slowly went back to their previous activities. Carlisle finished his meal first and stood up, taking his plate to the bench and talking to the cashier for a moment. He ran his card through the machine and then walked straight to the front door.

Freaked out, Alistair started to get up, only to be tugged back into his seat by Randal. "Carlisle-" he started, not getting the words out before he was gone. "Go and get him," he pleaded with me, tearing his boyfriend's hands off of his wrist.

It was enough to snap me back into reality and I jumped up. Handing him the payment for my meal, I forced myself not to run to the door. It didn't take too long for me to find him; he'd only made it to an alley a few shops away before being too shaky to go further. Surprisingly, he looked fairly calm, just a bit pale aside from the welt on his cheek.

Without saying anything, I just wrapped my arms around him and pulled him to my chest. "Are you okay?"

He nodded slowly. "I need to go home."

"Okay, Carlisle." I kept hold of his hand as we walked back toward our apartment building, not wanting him to do anything irrational while he was upset. Our walk back was quiet, and I expected Carlisle to retreat straight to bed once we got in the front door. He didn't, though. Instead he set about packing up what little still wasn't in boxes, working around me as I watched in confusion. "You sure you're alright?" When he didn't respond, I grabbed his hand the next time he passed me, holding my free one against his cheek. "Carlisle?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Gar, I'm just pissed he hit me. It was kind of rude." He tried to pull away, but my arm snaked around his waist to hold him in place. 'Rude' didn't begin to cover it. He must have seen the expression on my face, because he continued after a minute. "I've had far worse than a slap in the last few months, if doesn't matter, Garrett."

I nodded, brushing my lips against his before kissing him gently. "Let's get this house packed up then, yeah?" Tomorrow was Carlisle's first day back at work, and having everything all ready to go would mean one less thing to stress about when the time came. And it meant we could get to bed early if we were fast enough.

.

.

The dark room was dimly lit when I opened my eyes. it was still the middle of the night, and it took me a moment to realise that glow was coming from my boyfriend's phone. "Carlisle? You okay?" I mumbled, reaching for his waist to pull him back into me; he'd rolled away from me and sat up, presumably to try and keep from waking me up.

He nodded, and lay down to snuggle into my side. "Yeah, I just can't sleep," he admitted. Still, he held his phone against his chest to block my view of it. There was something 'off' about his tone, and he couldn't hide it from me, despite me being half asleep.

"What's up?" I rubbed his hand, encouraging him to show me. His reluctance was quite obvious now. "Are you alright? What happened?"

Shifting to rest his head on my shoulder, he finally moved the screen to where I could see it. The website opened was some form of social media. Neither one of us used facebook or anything similar, so it only confused me. He flicked the screen across and pulled up a few pictures off a young family; two smiling parents and a grinning toddler. "This is Esme and her husband Charles," he told me quietly, hesitant like he was expecting to be told off for it. "I know it's weird to look, Garrett, I was just thinking about home, and…"

It stung a little hearing London referred to as 'home'. "It's not weird, Carlisle," I murmured, pressing a kiss against his cheek. I slipped my arm around him, my fingertips teasing his ribs. "You grew up there; of course you're curious."

He said nothing, closing Esme's profile and opening another, this time from a stern looking man. "This is one of my brothers...His name is felix," he told me.

That freaked me out a little bit. "Why are you looking at this?"

"...I still get really homesick sometimes…" he told me hesitantly. Slowly tracing the lines of my chest on top on my shirt, he tried in vain to stop his cheeks warming. It didn't help and he buried his face in the fabric. "Being with your family all weekend made me think about mine, and we were talking about Esme, and I guess I got stuck on the thought of them, and…" He trailed off, guilty, and just hugged me tightly. "Sorry I woke you up."

"It's alright." We didn't speak for a while, but Carlisle's gentle fidgeting was enough for me to know he wasn't about to fall asleep any time soon. I wanted to keep him talking, now that he was finally opening up to me. "How long were you with her? Esme, I mean?" I asked carefully, squeezing him back when he squeezed me.

"Only for a few months before I came out. We went to the same high school, and her parents used to pay me - or rather my father - to tutor her in the subjects we shared. God, it's so strange that she's a mother now. Good strange, but strange all the same," he rambled.

"Her son is cute," I murmured. "What's his name?"

"I don't know; we don't speak," he reminded me. "...You really want kids though, don't you, Gar?" His voice was soft and careful.

It was only fair for me to tell him the truth seeming as he was finally talking to me; I didn't want him to avoid all this again just because I shut him down. "Yeah, I do. Carmen being pregnant again really rubs it in, I guess. Believing I was straight for 26 never really highlighted it as a problem, because I always thought I could have that, but now thinking about it makes me feel weird." There really wasn't another way to put it; it made my insides squirm and left me conflicted every time it came up. "You said you didn't want to be a father?"

He paused, and then shook his head. "No; I don't want to be like my dad."

A knot formed in the pit of my stomach and I pushed him off me, rolling him onto his back and pinning his hands above his head, pressing a kiss against his throat as I leaned over him. "You'll never, ever be like him; don't think like that."

The bedroom door creaked open as Fox nudged her way in, hearing our voices and coming to find us. She cried from the floor until Carlisle called to her, and then leapt up onto the bed. Her tiny body squeezed between us as she wedged herself underneath my body and the bed sheet, determined to be close to Carlisle. "I think the packing is upsetting her," he murmured, pulling his hands free to stroke her while she purred.

"She's a cat," I laughed. "It doesn't mean anything to her."

"You can't know that," he teased. Quiet for a while, he rolled onto his side to face me, one hand still comforting the kitten while the other rested on my waist. "Did you have pets when you were a kid?"

I tucked the blankets closer around us and hugged him again. "Mum and dad had a dog, and they let me have a couple of fish; they thought I didn't have the attention span to look after a bird or anything and fish seemed like an easy option. What about you?"

"I used to feed the neighbour's cat sometimes, but my father never let me have pets," he told me. "...It makes Fox really special."

Smiling to myself, I leaned back into the pillows, wrapping my arms around the two of them. "She'd be special anyway." I'd never stop loving the way she ran to him, and the way he lit up whenever he held her. "Are you nervous about work tomorrow?" I asked softly, giving him a gentle squeeze. Family might be a distraction, but I was fairly sure that was why he was awake at this hour.

He nodded. "I'm scared I'm going to freak out as soon as I get in the door, Gar, I don't think I can do it…"

"Yes you can. If you have a really horrible time, call me and I'll bring you home," I promised, kissing him again. Reaching over him, I stole his phone from where he'd dropped it. I shifted the blankets back a bit to expose the cat, quickly taking a picture of the three of us together. "Just think about Fox if you get anxious, yeah?" I showed him the photo, hoping that he found the gesture cute rather than invasive.

Thankfully, he started to smile again as he took his phone back. "I love you; I can't wait until we get to move into our new place."

"I love you too, and don't go getting too far ahead of yourself," I reminded him.


	70. Chapter 70

**This chapter is super long and awkward, sorry.**

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"I can't do it- I can't, Garrett, I-" His frantic pleading turned into gasps for breath as he struggled to breathe, tears welling up as a panic attack over took all common sense. This had happened yesterday morning as well, and he'd had to call in sick on what was supposed to be his first day back.

"Carlisle, calm down; it'll be fine," I interrupted, pushing him backwards to sit on the edge of the bed so he wouldn't fall. Perhaps the councillor was right about all they thought was wrong with him - it obviously wasn't over, despite how well things had been going for us. I sat next to him, wrapping my arms around him as he shook. "It's okay; he's not going to be there."

He just shook his head. The colour had drained completely from his face and his shaking was to the point I wondered if it hurt. "I can't- I'm scared- I'm going to faint-"

"Because you're not breathing properly; take some deep breaths," I soothed. I hated seeing him like this, hated him being like this, but nothing I did seemed to make it better. He was going to have to go to work at some point, and these meltdowns weren't going to stop until he did. Slowly, he exhausted himself to the point that he was forced to calm down, still trembling and out of breath, but not so violently upset. "You're okay," I reminded him.

After a few minutes of gentle coaxing, he followed me to the kitchen for a drink of water. He watched me warily as I pulled on my jacket and passed him his, wide-eyed and not convinced by my reassurances. "I can't..." he whispered again, unable to look at me and watching the floor.

"Finish your drink, and then I'm driving you to work." I felt mean making him do this, but something told me it was only going to get worse if he gave in every time he got upset.

"...I can't...Garrett...I-I'm not ready." He held the glass with both hands, trying to keep it steady so he could get it to his lips without spilling it. "I really can't- It's going to make me sick..."

"You need to do this," I insisted. "The more you think about it, the more nervous you're going to get; it has to happen." Seeing the hurt and absolute defeat on his face, I sat in the chair next to his, taking the cup off of him so I could hold his hands. "It'll be okay, Carlisle, I promise. I know you think you can't, but you can. Caius isn't going to be there, and if it really is terrible, I'll come and take you home again."

He nodded, more giving up than agreeing with me. He slowly put on his jacket, reluctantly following me out the front door. His silence continued until I'd started the car, but he still wouldn't look at me. "I already don't feel well, Gar, I'm not going to be able to do this," he told me softly as we pulled into his company carpark.

"Just try, okay?" I sighed. "I know you don't want to-"

"It's not that 'I don't want to', Garrett; I'm scared," he snapped. "If not wanting to work was my problem, I would have quit my fucking job when this all started." Although he was trying to be mad at me, his voice shook and he was barely holding back tears.

"Hey…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insinuate that." Half expecting him to push me away, I dared to sneak my hand onto his thigh.

Thankfully, he just covered my fingers with his. "I don't want to argue before we leave each other for the day."

"I love you. It'll be okay." I awkwardly leaned across the gearbox and wrapped my arms around him. "Please try not to worry; you're perfectly safe and it's going to be fine." Even though he was about to be late for work, I didn't let him go until he started to pull away. "Do you want me to walk you to your office?"

"No, it's okay." He kissed my cheek and slid out of the car, while I watched him walk away and felt like a bad parent making their child so something that they terrified of doing.

.

.

He only made it half-way through the day before getting so nervous he started to vomit again. He didn't call me like I'd wanted him to, choosing to walk instead. It was his new boss, the same man we'd had the meeting with a few weeks ago, that rang me to tell me what was going on. Thank god he was understanding, assuring me that if he could only manage half a day at the moment, then that was alright, and we could ease him back into work slowly.

Unfortunately, I had to finish my full day; my boss wasn't about to let me out at lunch time. To make it worse, Carlisle ignored all of my texts. By the end of the day, I'd somehow managed to complete the report I was working on but I knew the quality was shit. Still, it meant I could leave. My heart was racing by the time I got home, and I suddenly wasn't ready to deal with Carlisle yet; he was obviously upset, but hopefully not angry with me.

He didn't look up from his laptop as I opened and closed the front door, sitting at the kitchen table with his cat curled up on his lap. My presence seemed to make him more uncomfortable; his shoulders stiffened even though he tried not to react and he sunk his teeth into his lip.

"Carlisle, what happened today?" I asked softly, daring to stand behind him. My fingers brushed the back of his neck as I ran my fingers through his hair and I regained a little bit of hope when he didn't flinch back. Once I could see his screen, it took me a moment to realise he was looking at job listings.

"...I had a panic attack and they sent me home," he admitted reluctantly. He leaned back in his chair to look up at me, visibly unsure.

"And it was so horrible that you want to find a new job?" I hadn't meant to be condescending, but by the look on his face that was the way it'd come out. "It was just your first day; it'll get easier," I reminded him.

"But I don't want to feel like that every time I go to work- you know what it's like, Garrett, you've had panic attacks too; you know how awful it feels," he pleaded.

"I know, I'm not stopping you from changing careers if that's what you want; it's your choice, but I just don't want you to do it irrationally while you're upset." I leaned down, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and kissing his neck. "I want you to be happy, Carlisle."

He glanced up at me, smiling this time despite himself. "Do you think we should starting taking some of our boxes over to our new house tomorrow night?" He waited while the words sunk in, but suddenly couldn't wipe the grin off of his face.

My pulse spiked and I squeezed him tighter. "We got the apartment?"

He leaned up to kiss me. "Yes, Gar, we did."

.

.

The rest of the week passed in a blur. As soon as we signed the paperwork, they were giving us the keys, and then we were spending every evening transfering boxes from one place to the other. By late Friday night, we'd somehow managed it. We'd cleaned up and left our old apartment, and started building our new home together.

The new place was a lot smaller than our old one - one bedroom instead of two, complete with a kitchen and lounge - and we quickly realised the furniture situation wasn't going to work. I was almost a little pleased; we would be able to chose it's replacement together. It would well and truly be _our_ home.

I also found that I had no interior decoration skills whatsoever. Instead, I left the colour coordinating to Carlisle; his creative vision fit perfectly, and it made everything far easier on my behalf - I stuck to the heavy lifting. It meant that the place actually looked nice instead of a haphazard arrangement of tables and mismatched chairs, tidy and organised despite the reduced space. It felt like we were finally a complete family - cat-child and all.

We stopped unpacking for the day once we'd found what we needed to be comfortable for the night. Both of us were exhausted from moving boxes all week. I pulled Carlisle into my arms at the first opportunity, placing a gentle kiss on his lips as we lay in bed together. "We did it," I murmured softly.

His eyes were bright as he smiled, despite the exhaustion and him barely surviving the last week at work. "I guess so. I never thought I'd do this with anyone." Wrapping his arms around my neck, his fingers fidgeted with my hair.

"Me neither." I captured his mouth with mine again, running my hands down his body and squeezing his waist. Finally something had gone right for us. Very right. Perfectly even. Wonderfully, beautifully perfect.

He glanced up, his gaze meeting mine. "Thank you for loving me," he said softly. "I've put you through a lot in the past year."

It took me off guard, and I felt a twinge of sadness. "I love you more than anything." I hugged him tightly, holding him against my chest. "I've never been as happy as I am now."

"I love you too." His voice was slightly muffled by my shirt. "I'm so proud of us."

Switching off the light, I grinned into the darkness. "Me too."

.

.

For the last half an hour, I'd been watching Carlisle put together our new dinner table - my old one took up the whole space so obnoxiously it was claustrophobic - and I was well aware that my 'helping' was getting under his feet as I failed to understand what the crudely printed diagrams-that-were-supposed-to-be-instructions meant. So far, all I'd done of actual use was to help him move the damn thing.

"Hold this," he murmured to me.

I stretched out my hand without really looking, expecting to feel either the cold handle of a tool or a table leg or something. Instead, my fingers brushed something warm and soft. I took Fox from him with a laugh, cradling her in the crook of my arm as I rolled my eyes at him. "Why?"

"She's getting in the way, and I don't want to squash her," he complained back, hiding a smile. He sat back on his knees, setting the tool he was holding down. "I think this is right?"

"There's a reason you're holding the screwdriver and not me, Carlisle," I teased. "But yeah, it's got four legs; it looks fine to me."

He rolled his eyes, getting to his feet to pull the piece of furniture upright. It fit in the space perfectly, just like he'd promised, and the natural wood finish nicely matched the rest of our kitchen Although he'd just given her to me, he was immediately prying Fox out of my arms and capturing her for his own once he was standing. She purred straight away, breaking the silence she'd started as soon as I'd picked her up; she tolerated me, but she _loved_ him.

"Do you want to go out for dinner?" Considering our last 'date' was a disaster, it seemed about time that we did something nice together. We also had barely any food in the house because we'd both been so busy with moving we hadn't had time to get to the grocery store in the last week. I really didn't fancy eating noodles tonight.

"It's not going to stress you out too much?" He leaned against me, the kitten trapped between us as he refused to put her down. Of all the things we didn't have, he'd made doubly sure that we had more than enough cat food to last the next few days.

"No, I was fine when we went out with Alistair - until Randal hit you, of course." I instinctively raised my hand to brush my thumb over his cheek, glad that the blow hadn't been hard enough for it to ever really bruise. The whole memory made me a bit sick.

"Prick," he muttered under his breath, his mood souring at the mention of it as he turned away so I couldn't see his expression. I _hoped_ that his curse was directed at Randal.

I held his waist to stop him. "Carlisle, I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you that night. It all happened so fast, and I didn't know what to do because he's Alistair's partner, and I was already nervous because of the food, and- I know that's not an excuse; I just don't want you to think that I don't care. I know you were scared, and I'm sorry I didn't handle that better." The longer he didn't reply, the more nervous I got. My hands moved to his wrists, my thumbs slowly tracing circles against the back of his palm. "Carlisle, please say something…"

"I'm not mad at you, Garrett, I'd just rather not think about it." Slowly, he looked up at me, uncomfortable and nervous. His complete change in mood worried me a little; I was still half expecting him to yell at me. "I need to find another job, Gar, being there every day is too much," he told me anxiously. "I won't leave until I've got another one, but I can't stay in that office."

"Okay, if that's what you need to do." I hugged him, breathing a sigh of relief when he relaxed; I knew he hadn't been pleased with me for making him go back, but he'd tried it, and that was all I could ask of him.

"...Are you upset with me?" The question was very hesitant and shy, and I could hear the worry in his voice.

I shook my head. "No, you tried and if you still feel like you need to leave, then that's alright. I don't want you to be miserable every day. Do you still want to go out for dinner? Or we can just go to the supermarket?"

Thankfully, he started to smile again. "Let's go find something to eat; I don't want to cook."

.

.

It being 7pm on a Saturday night, every place we went into was packed with people. Just the sight of them made me nervous, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to eat in any of the restaurants around us. Carlisle, being the angel that he was, suggested that we just order our meals to go and found somewhere nice to eat. We ended up driving to a large park in our new neighbourhood, sitting on our jackets under the old acorn trees with our meals in our laps. No one else had had the same idea as us, luckily, and we had the whole place to ourselves.

"Carnival," he mumbled through a mouthful of pasta.

"What?" I laughed. It still pleased me to see him eating, to see him more like he was when we first met, and I found myself smiling as I watched him.

He gestured with his fork to a sign across the carpark. "There's a carnival on; can we go? I've never been to one before," he repeated.

I followed his line of sight. The poster said that there was some kind of fair on a few streets away, which would explain why it was so empty here. A bit of fun _would_ do us both good, and I couldn't say no to something that would make another positive memory for him, especially while he was still struggling at work. "Yeah, if you want. Finish your dinner first, though?"

"Yes, Garrett," he agreed obediently, rolling his eyes. A smile still tugged on the corners of his lips, eventually breaking through when he looked over at me. "You worry too much, you know. I've gained 3 kgs since I've been off work; I'm fine. You don't need to measure how much I'm eating like a bloody hawk." He rubbed my leg, letting me know he wasn't mad, but I still felt guilty that he had noticed me hovering.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was still far too little. "I can't help it; it was horrible watching you get that sick, and I just want you to be well again." Once he'd swallowed his last mouthful, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him in to me, hugging him tightly. "I'm sorry."

He kissed my throat, leaning forward so that his weight forced me to lie back against the grass. "You're lucky it's kind of sweet," he teased. His fingers found their way into my hair, pulling it slightly and effectively messing it up.

I hummed in answer, my hands wandering down his body to rest on his thighs. It made me a little less nervous to touch him now that he didn't feel so horribly fragile. I'd missed the closeness between us like this. His kisses trailed along my jaw, until he caught my bottom lip lightly between his teeth, and I strangled a groan in my throat. I suddenly _really_ despised being in public. "Are you sure you want to go to this carnival?" I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"Yeah, don't you?" He was teasing me, hiding an innocent smile; he wasn't letting me out of this one. Without another word, he rolled off me, getting to his feet and offering me a hand up. "It'll be fun, Gar. Besides, we've just eaten."

That wasn't much of an excuse, and I suspected that he was still nervous like he'd been after Caius; I was going to have to force myself to be slow with him, despite how playful he'd been while we were camping. I grabbed his hand and let him haul me to my feet, keeping hold of his fingers as we started to make our way over there. We decided to just walk the few streets over instead of risking needing to find parking, and I was glad that we had; there were people everywhere. I kept stealing glances at Carlisle as we made out way in; I didn't want him to be anxious about the crowd.

He was too excited to even notice the other people around us. We wandered through a few of the stalls, eventually ending up with a stick of candyfloss each - Carlisle had never had that before either, and that was a crime in my books. The stupid stall games provided a bit of entertainment for an hour or so, both of us failing miserably but my boyfriend somehow ending up with a rather large stuffed animal.

"Come on the ferris wheel with me?" He wrapped one hands around one of mine, already pulling me in that direction. We hadn't attempted any of the rickety looking rides yet, and I'd hoped that he might think they were as decepid looking as I did and be too scared to go near them. Of course not, though.

"Carlisle, I'm almost 28 years old," I groaned at him. "You may weigh 120 pounds, but I do not." I could already picture the thing collapsing with us inside it, or rolling doomsday-style through the city as it came off it's rails.

"You're also holding a giant teddy bear _and_ candyfloss," he teased, starting to laugh. He nudged me with his shoulder, stepping closer and slipping his arm around my waist.

" _Your_ bear," I reminded him.

"You can have it," he grinned.

"How chivalrous of you," I rolled my eyes. I wasn't even sure how I ended up with it in my arms, by that point. "What about you go, and I watch?"

"Are you my parent? Come, Garrett, it wouldn't be open if it wasn't safe." He stopped to face me, wrapping his arms around my neck and standing on his toes to kiss me. He did have a point, I guess. I was starting to think that he just needed to get out of the crowd, but didn't know how to tell me.

I gave in. "Alright. Are you ready to go home, afterwards?" Just like I'd thought, he nodded.

"Yes, please," he mumbled, looking away. His nerves seemed to ease as we stood in line for the ride, so long as I kept my hand against the small of his back. Thankfully, the ride didn't so much as creak as we stepped onto it, and we weren't the only adults there at this time of night. I wasn't normally a fan of heights, but the city did look awfully pretty in the dim lighting, street lamps scattered like glowing orbs along the streets. I was almost disappointed when it was time for us to get off the ride, but Carlisle was looking quite unnerved, and it was obvious that he needed to go.

"Come on," I murmured, wrapping my arm around his shoulders and guiding him toward the nearest exit. It was only a few minutes walk back to the car, thankfully, and we were inside the safety of the vehicle in no time. "You okay, Carlisle?" I asked softly.

He nodded. "Yeah, I just...it made me nervous; I'm not sure why," he admitted quietly. "I'm alright now."

"You can tell me when you're not feeling good," I reminded him. "I can't do anything if I don't know."

"I know, it's just like I forget how to breathe, and I can't think properly as soon as there's too many people. It didn't used to be that way, though; I used to be fine." He was mumbling, not really wanting to tell me but unable to avoid it as the words tumbled out.

"You're been through a lot in the last few months; it's just another thing that we'll deal with. Have you told the councillor about it?" I knew I was crossing a line, and that he didn't want to go there right now, but the only time I could get him to talk about it was when he was physically trapped with me in the car. As far as we'd come, he still wouldn't open up about it, and it sometimes made me very aware of how little I knew about him.

"No." The answer was short and sharp, clearly irritated. He was about to become cagey and abrasive, and we both knew it.

"There's no point in going if you're not going to talk to her-"

He cut me off. "I _am_ talking to her, just not about that; she probably already think I'm crazy."

"Alright." I left it, not wanting a fight after we'd had a nice evening. By the time we got home, he'd settled again, forgiving me enough to want to hold my hand as I drove.

"Do you think Kate will want the bear?" he asked once we got home, dragging the fluffy creature out of the car to bring inside. I bit back a smile as he tried to find a non-awkward way to hold it, eventually surrendering and hugging it.

"Aren't you going to keep your prize?" I teased. "You two are awfully cute together." I took it off him when he tripped on the steps, unable to see where he was walking because of it.

"What am I going to do with an oversized toy, Garrett?" he laughed.

"You can cuddle it when you're alone in bed, instead of begging me to come in earlier when I'm not ready." I pushed him with it, laughing when he was off-balance enough to stumble from the light nudge.

"Do you really want a teddy bear to replace you, Garrett? I guess it might not complain so much," he teased back. "And it won't whine when my hands are too cold, or take all the blankets in bed, or-" He cut himself off giggling as I got the front door open and threw the thing onto the couch, grabbing him instead.

"In that case, I'm sure Kate would love it." She really would, and the gesture was sweet; her father wouldn't ever be in favour of buying such a monstrosity, but my niece would be over the moon with it. I kissed him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction to see if he was still annoyed, but he wrapped his arms around my neck and pulled me into him. "Are you ready for bed, Carlisle?" I was already pushing him that way, guiding him while he walked backwards.

"That depends, am I taking you or the bear with me?" The mattress hit the backs of his shins and he fell against it, his fingers remaining tangled in my clothing to drag me down with him.

"The bear can sleep on the couch," I chuckled, slipping my hands under his shirt and starting to tug it off of him. He didn't provide any resistance, obliging straight away and then immediately starting on the buttons of mine.

Unfortunately for us, Fox cried, annoyed we'd arrived home and not paid her any attention. Carlisle pushed me away and sat up. "We're not fucking with our child in the room," he told me, hiding a smile.

I groaned and lay back on the bed, pulling the blankets over myself while he took her into the kitchen. Removing the cat from the room shouldn't have taken as long as it did, but apparently soothing her required a good five minutes of his time. I heard him feed her, and then he was suddenly back in bed with me. "Is she happy now?" I ran my hands down his thighs as he knelt with one knee on either side of my hips.

"Yeah, she's good," he murmured. He leaned down, his lips brushing mine before he kissed me firmly. My knee-jerk reaction was to coil my arms around his waist, causing him to collapse into me. He tangled his fingers in my hair, slipping one of his knees between both of mine, his lips trailing along my jaw and down my neck as I dragged my nails up his back. Neither of us were fully underdressed yet, and I wondered whether he saw it going that far at all.

Having the weight of his body on top of mine was comforting, and every little touch he rewarded me with seemed amplified. I could see why he liked being in this position so much. It was a stupid conversation, but I didn't have enough coherence left to stop it coming out of my mouth. "Have you ever…?" I'd pulled out of a kiss to ask, but he just looked amused.

"'Have I ever 'what', Gar?" he asked, obviously teasing me.

I knew that he already knew what I was asking, but I couldn't make the words come out anyway. "Have you ever...I mean, the whole time we've been together it's always been me that's…"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Considering I'm your first boyfriend, it didn't seem like a good idea to jump straight into that. I thought it would freak you out."

"You're right; it would have. But it...you like it? It feels good, right?" I was only getting more awkward, but it was just making him laugh.

"We've been together a year and a half, Garrett; I would have said something by now if it didn't feel good. What's all this about?"

"Um...I guess I'm just, ah, curious…?" Immediately distracted as his lips trailed down my chest, I fought to keep on track.

He was trying to bait me into saying the words. At least he wasn't put off, I guess. "About?"

I took a breath to steady myself, knotting my fingers in his hair and barely reminding myself not to pull. "I want you to fuck me...I think…" I didn't want to know how unsure I looked, because it made him stop what he was doing and lie next to me, his arms around my waist.

"What are you worried about?" he asked softly. "If it's not something you want, I'm okay with that, Gar; don't do it if you only want to because you think it'll please me. I'm fine with how we are, but if you still want to try it, we can."

Lightly rubbing his shoulder, I tried to figure out where I'd found such a sweet boy. "I want to try, but I don't want it to hurt. I know you wouldn't hurt me on purpose, but it's still new to me, and…"

"I'm not going to lie to you; it's a bit uncomfortable the first few times, but it feels good once you get used to it. We can go as slow as you need to."

I nodded slowly, squeezing him. "I want to try. If you do too. You _have_ done it before, right?"

"Yeah, not a lot though; it always made me quite nervous," he admitted.

For some reason, hearing that made me feel better, and my tension eased a little. "Nervous, why? It's always been fine for me?"

His cheeks warmed a bit, and I was quite aware that he didn't like talking about his previous partners. "They always wanted it to happen too quickly, and it was too rough, and I could never...stuff like that never worked for me; I got too anxious about it. I think it would be different with you, though."

"I'm scared I'm going to hate it," I told him. I knew he wouldn't make fun of me, but I still didn't like the thought of having to back out.

He laughed quietly and kissed my cheek. "It's not like you're not allowed to like guys anymore if you don't like being a bottom, Garrett. If you hate, then we don't have to do it again. All you have to say is 'stop'."

"I want to try," I told him again, rubbing the tops of his arms as he leaned on me. The closer he was to me, the less scary it seemed, and considering there was no space between us at the moment, I was all talk.

"Now?" he asked incredulously, looking a little concerned.

"Yeah, unless you don't want to." It was now or never; I was going to lose my nerve if I thought about it too long.

"Alright," he slowly agreed. He slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom, presumably to go and get what we needed, and my heart was suddenly racing. Good racing, I thought, but still going a hundred miles an hour. I was a little worried that Carlisle might hear it when he came back, but he was a little preoccupied. "Are you _sure,_ Garrett?"

I laughed, rolling my eyes at him. "More sure than you, apparently." My laugh was cut off when he unceremoniously dropped a condom onto the bed.

"Try not to think about that," he told me, slipping back under the blankets again. His lips met mine, one hand resting against the side of my face, and I was suddenly finding it hard to focus on anything else.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, savouring the feeling of him moving against me as he settled over me again. "I love you," I mumbled, watching the ceiling as his mouth moved to my neck. There was no way that he couldn't feel my pulse now.

"I love you too; just try and relax," he murmured. A quiet laugh slipped out and he brushed his thumb across my throat. "You're not about to have a heart attack, are you?" he teased.

"I'm _really_ nervous…" I chuckled. My face grew warm despite my attempt to keep from blushing, and I couldn't help but smile as our eyes met.

"Me too, but you're so cute." He was laughing, unable to stop smiling at the red in my cheeks. Without warning, he dropped his hand between my legs. I gasped involuntarily, arching my back under him. My teeth dug into my lip as I tried not to groan, and my fingers curled around the bedsheets. A rush of adrenaline flooded my system and I fought begging him to hurry up. He slowly started to stroke me, one hand wrapped around my cock while he fumbled with the lid on the lube with the other. It was clumsy and had both of us giggling. "Just relax, and remember we can stop," he reminded.

His lips replaced his hand and I couldn't think past curse words, arching up to meet his mouth. A hum reverberated in his throat as I tugged his hair, an unstoppable moan in my chest at the vibration it caused. I started to say his name, to beg him to hurry up or I was going to lose it, but he slipped a finger inside of me. My hips buckled as I shifted on the bed to meet him, my breath catching in my chest. He teased my thighs with his teeth, keeping me wonderfully, horribly distracted as he started to prepare me.

Squirming, I tried not to tense around him, ignoring the weird pressure in exchange for Carlisle's kisses as his lips found their way back to mine. He kept moving against me, never leaving me without friction. There was no pain, just slight discomfort which was quickly overtaken by pleasure as he pressed the right places. I held his face in my hands, brushing my thumb over the pink flush in his cheeks. "You okay?" he asked softly, pausing for a moment to kiss my forehead.

"Yeah, I trust you; I'm ready," I assured him, shifting on the bed to let him settle between my thighs. Tracing the lines of his chest, I let my eyes fall closed as he fumbled with the condom. Just from how much effort it was taking, I knew he was freaking out a little.

He shifted, starting to kiss me again as he carefully pushed into me. I tensed up immediately, to the point that it was painful for both of us. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked anxiously.

I shook my head, not ready to surrender yet. Forcing deep breaths, I tried to relax, unable to stop my nails digging into his shoulders as he moved a little more. He was holding his breath, obviously hating every second of it. The discomfort turned to pain, and I flinched, unnerving him enough to pull out completely. "Stop- I can't, sorry, that really doesn't feel good," I told him quickly, rubbing the back of his neck as he fell into me.

"Are you hurt? Are you okay?" he asked frantically, running his fingers through my hair to brush it off my face. "I'm sorry, Gar."

"I'm fine," I assured him. "Why the hell do you like that?" I ran my fingers down his spine, hugging him once my hands were on his waist.

He laughed a little, kissing me again. "It feels better after you get used to it; it's kind of rough the first couple of times. You've never hurt me."

"I still think you're crazy," I teased, pushing him so he was lying on the bed next to me and rolling over to face him.

His hand landed on my chest as he smiled. "Here's to new houses and new experiences, right?"

"I guess so," I grinned.

.

.


	71. Chapter 71

**As usual, I'll be back to finish any horrendous grammar errors. Thanks for sticking around for 71 chapters :,)**

* * *

For as much as I hated walking, I was starting to like it. Wandering the various trails and doing some occasional off-track exploring with Carlisle _was_ rather enjoyable. We started with just walking around our new neighbourhood - the change of scenery was still exciting - so that it wasn't so hard for me when we attempted the longer tracks later on. My boyfriend was very tolerant of the whole thing, keeping pace with me without skipping ahead. It gave us a much needed break from the monotony of our jobs and the last of our unpacking. I wasn't sure how Carlisle had managed to coax me out, but I was very glad that he did.

Tonight, our conversation had faded into a comfortable silence as the light started to disappear from the streets, only broken by our footfalls and the soft chorus of birdsong in the trees around us. Carlisle kept his hand in mine as we made our way back home, present but preoccupied.

"Hey, Gar? What are we doing for father's day? Your family celebrates that, right?" he asked after a while.

The question seemed random to me, until I realised that it was only a couple of weeks away. "I usually go to my parents for lunch, but we don't have to do anything if it's going to be too much." I squeezed his fingers, fighting back a frown. This year wasn't going to be easy; it was the first year since he'd lost his dad, and I wasn't sure whether it was going to upset him or not.

He shook his head. "I'll be fine; it was never anything but a pain in the ass for me before. It doesn't make a difference that the bastard's dead." His dark response didn't give me much faith.

"Are you sure, Carlisle?" I pressed.

"Yeah."

"You don't sound sure. If it's going to make you sad, then we'll stay home and pretend it's not happening."

"I'm not sad about it, Gar, and I'm not sad that he's gone. I'm just mad that he made me think that it was my fault for so long, and that I have to feel like shit because he couldn't be a good parent."

That was progress, I guess. "You've been talking to the councillor about this?" My words made him bristle at first, but for the first time he didn't outright reject the conversation.

"Yeah...I guess it's helping after all. And you, and moving house, and camping and everything...things are finally going well for us."

I smiled, catching his waist and turning him to face me as we came to a stop. "It's about time. We just have to sort your job out now."

Carlisle's new manager emailed him every few days, apparently 'checking up' on him, though I suspected it was more making sure he wasn't about to cause any legal drama for them, and it was putting him on edge. Eventually he broke, telling him that he couldn't work there anymore and was going to leave.

Although we initially only got silence out of them, the company was quick to call him in for another meeting as soon as they got wind of him wanting to quit. I'd expected it to be with the same man as last time, just three of us, but when we walked in there were two extra people in the room. Carlisle paled when he saw them, and I guessed they were higher management or something. It only took a few minutes for them to be done with pleasantries and small talk, and they cut straight to the point.

"Would you stay with us if we offered you a position away from the office?" one of the men asked. His voice was gravley and he sounded like he'd been smoking since childhood. Having him loose obviously made him too much of a liability.

"You mean back in the shop?" Carlisle asked, fidgeting with his hands under the table. I wanted to touch him, but I didn't want to ruin anything for him by being unprofessional. "With Sue?" The last bit was hopeful. Whether she was there or not, I doubted that he could handle being there either. There was no way he wasn't going to freak out as soon as there were too many people in the shop.

He shook his head. "No, I mean design work for us."

Still not really understanding, he glanced at me, shrugging as our eyes met.

The man from our last meeting finally spoke up. "I've heard you're quite artistic - Caius showed me some of your work before he, uh, left - and I think you'd enjoy it; you would be able to work mostly from home, if that is what you preferred. We can enroll you in a basic graphic design course if you were to take the job, to get you a bit of training." He smiled at both of us, more reassuring than the other two.

I would have _loved_ to have known how Caius got hold of Carlisle's artwork. Glancing at Carlisle, I could see how conflicted he was about the whole thing. "Can I think about it?" he asked timidly, looking to me for approval. They were visibly surprised at his answer; they must have expected him to blindly agree - I had too.

"That's fine, Carlisle; just get back to us," he told him. He stood up to shake our hands again as we said goodbye to them, more aware of how intimidating the whole situation was for my boyfriend than the others.

"You're not going to say 'no' are you?" I whispered once we were in the elevator. It wasn't until I turned to look at him that was realised how anxious this was making him. "What's the matter, Carlisle? This is perfect for you." I slipped my arms around him, rubbing his back as he leaned his head against my shoulder.

"I want to take the job, I'm just scared I won't be good enough. I don't have a degree in this stuff - I draw for fun," he mumbled into me. "This isn't what I planned on, and it makes me nervous."

"Why don't you just give it a go; try it out and if it's the worse, then leave like you thought you were going to." The door binged open and I let him go, settling for holding his hand as we walked out. We drove home in almost silence, apart from my occasional attempt to get him talking.

"I really don't want to work there anymore, Garrett…" he mumbled. "I don't think I can do that job- it's stupid they're giving it to me anyway; I'm not qualified for it." Even after we'd parked outside of our building, he didn't get out of the car immediately, watching his lap as he fidgeted. "It makes me feel like shit; they're pretty much just buying my silence."

"I know it's weird, Carlisle, but think about it. They're giving you free training, and you'd be able to work from home most of the time. You won't have to be in office anymore," I reminded him, reaching over to rub his thigh.

"Why do you want me to take this job so badly? What difference does it make to you whether I work for this company or another one?" There was more hostility in his voice than I appreciated, but I didn't call him out on it.

I sighed, finding his hand and squeezing his fingers. "Please don't be upset with me, I'm not trying to hurt you. But I saw how nervous you got when we were around all those people at the carnival, and I don't want you to be stuck in an office, or a shop or something, and get anxious and not be able to get out."

He looked discouraged, the fidgeting increasing and becoming destructive as he picked at his fingers. "I can't stay at home forever…"

"I know, but just for now, it seems like a good option to me. Just until you get everything sorted out, and you're feeling better." I stilled his fingers, stopping him hurting himself. "If you hate the idea of it, I'm not going to force you into it. You don't _have_ to do it."

"I don't know." Without warning, he jumped out of the car, going to stand by the building door to wait for me to get my shit together. He was playing with his phone, I hoped not annoyed enough with me to be texting Alistair about it.

I got my jacket and climbed out. "Carlisle, please don't do this. I'm not trying to force you into anything, I just-"

"And I don't think you are but I just want to go inside because I feel like I can't breathe out here," he burst out, practically pleading with me to hurry up. "Please, Garrett…"

This was the exact behaviour I was thinking about before. I jogged the last few steps to him, handing him to keys so he could go as quickly as he wanted. His hands shook too much for him to get the right bit of metal in the door, and he eventually gave up and asked me to do it. He followed me into the elevator, hugging me once the door was closed. "I love you," I murmured to him, rubbing his shoulder as I wrapped my arm around him.

"I love you too," he mumbled back. He sounded quite disheartened, perhaps disappointed in himself, and my heart went out to him. His shoulders slumped and his posture dissolved, but he kept his hand in mine as we made our way into our new home. "I'll email them back, Gar, I'll take that job...I guess I can still quit if it's awful, and nothing changes, right?" Still, he didn't sound that sure about it; I was going to have to be really careful with him for the next few weeks.

.

.

We made dinner together that night. Theoretically, it was my night to cook, but Carlisle had started it, pulling out the ingredients and utensils we would need. I felt way too guilty to let him do it alone, and found myself in the kitchen with him. Normally we worked around each other seamlessly, but I was falling over him tonight; he was so preoccupied with whatever he was worrying about that he wasn't paying attention, spilling things and knocking things over as he worked. It all came to a head when he knocked a knife off of the bench, slicing his hand open in the process.

"Carlisle, Jesus." Closing my fingers over his wrist, I made him hold his hand under the tap, relieved to see that the gash wasn't very deep. He immediately started to apologise, his breath started to catch, but I shushed him. "I'll finish cooking, you just wrap this up and sit down, okay?"

He nodded slowly. "Okay…" Holding back tears, he did what I'd said, getting the first aid kit and then going into the lounge. His silence worried me. Once he was gone, I didn't hear a peep from him, and my nervousness about it only grew as I finished up.

Unable to stand it any longer, I wandered into the room to find him. "How's your hand?"

"It's okay." The cut might have been fine, but my boyfriend wasn't. He'd found Fox, anxiously holding her against his chest as he tried to force air into his lungs. After a few seconds of me standing there in silence, he dissolved. The panic consumed him until he couldn't speak to me, couldn't move, couldn't do anything other than shake and cry. The kitten squirmed in his hands as he freaked out, not liking the sudden outburst of emotion and clawing him until he dropped her. Her rejection seemed to hurt more than it should of.

At a loss for what to do, I sat on the edge of the couch next to him. "Do you want dinner?" I asked softly. He immediately shook his head, choking back a sob in his throat. "Give me a minute, then." Sighing, I went back to the kitchen, covering all of the food and putting the dishes in the sink before going back to him.

He stiffened when I settled next to him again. My presence seemed to squeeze the air out of his body until I was sure he was going to pass out. He was bracing himself against his knees, trying to stop the trembling, but he was so unsteady that I knew he would fall if he'd tried to stand.

He might have hated me at that moment, but I couldn't leave him like this. "Carlisle…" Against his will, I shuffled closer, sneaking my arm around his waist and rubbing his hip. "Is this about work? What's happening?"

Too numb to answer me, he just shook his head. The colour rose in his cheeks, the stress pumping adrenaline through his system. Fox was crying, but he wasn't hearing her, ignoring her sharp nips at his ankles. I knew I needed to get him in bed. Sooner rather than later, he was going to collapse, and that wasn't going to help things at all.

"Come to bed," I instructed. I stood, tugging him to his feet, only to find that he was rigid with tension and resisted any movement. "You need to lie down, or you're going to fall," I repeated. He wasn't hearing me, blankly watching the hallway in front of us as I forced him to walk. His chest spasmed and his hand flew to his throat in his fight for air, shivering like he'd been submerged in a bucket of ice water. Once we got to our room, I fought him into bed, relenting once he was stable.

I didn't know what to do about his anxiety; I'd never seen him have an episode this severe before. Caius or not, he'd never had a meltdown like this in front of me. Slowly, I gently pulled his hand away from his neck, frowning at the gouges his fingernails had left in his skin in his attempt to ease the tightness there. I just squeezed his fingers, keeping a tight grip on them as I sat with him. A lump formed in my throat; I felt like I was watching him choke and couldn't save him, like some kind of bad movie.

It took hours until he exhausted himself to the point that he was forced to relax, no longer gasping for breath. With my fingers over his wrist, I could feel his pulse still going a million miles an hour, but the shaking was less, at least. "Can you talk to me now?" I asked softly. I slid my hand down to find his fingers, and his hold on me was so tight that it was almost painful. I brushed the back of his knuckles with my thumb, wanting to soothe him but not knowing how. "Tell me what's wrong?"

He tried to steady his breathing, throwing a quick glance at the clock. It was nearing midnight now. "..I feel so stupid, Gar…" he managed to get out eventually. "...I can't do what they want...I get so homesick and I know it hurts you but I can't stop, and I'm not going to be any good at this job and I'm scared you're going to be pissed off with me when I fail and have to quit…" The words bubbled out before he could stop them, and I had to swallow back a lump in my throat. "I don't know what to do."

I lay down on the bed, dragging him with me and holding him tightly against my chest. "I'm not going to be upset with you if you still can't be with that company, Carlisle, I'm not going to blame you. I love you." Despite my best efforts, tears escaped before I could stop them. I hated that this was what was making him feel so awful, and I knew I'd caused it by pushing him so hard. Thankfully, he'd curled up against me, and I didn't think he'd noticed my reaction. "I'm sorry I made you think like that."

"...You didn't listen when I told you it would make me sick, and it did, and…" Tired, there wasn't much conviction in his voice, but I deserved the blame all the same. The tension was finally gone from his body though.

"I know, I'm sorry, Carlisle. I'm really sorry." I knew that was why he hadn't called me to take him home, because he didn't trust me not to fight him on it. "I love you."

"I love you too." His fingers knotted in my shirt, holding himself closer to me. Taking that as a good sign, I pulled the blankets over both of us, shifting my arm so that he could rest his head on my shoulder.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly. Obviously not, seeming as he'd spent the last few hours hyperventilating; it was a dumb question. Sighing, I locked my arms around him, my hand sneaking under the back of his t-shirt as it shifted when he moved. I let my fingertips trail across his skin as I rubbed the small of his back, relieved that he was letting me get this close to him. The contact between us calmed me almost instantly, and it seemed to help him as well.

He nodded slowly, sleepy now. "Yeah, just overwhelmed." Shifting onto his side, he pressed a careful kiss against my throat, one hand gently teasing my chest while the other weaseled it's way around my middle.

"Alright." I kept slowly rubbing his back, reaching over to switch off the lamp once he'd finally fallen asleep. The light died, but my guilt didn't.

.

.

I called in sick to work the next day. Sooner or later, I was going to get in trouble for taking so much time off, tied in with my general uselessness at my job, but I couldn't bring myself to care at the moment. I somehow managed to wake up a little before Carlisle did, and switched off all of his alarms so that he'd stay asleep, sneaking into the kitchen to make us both breakfast.

It wasn't long before he came in behind me and I heard him hesitate in the doorway. "Come and sit at the table; do you want something to eat?" His silence made me turn, and instantly I was more than glad I'd chosen to stay with him today; pale and withdrawn, I knew he wasn't feeling good. "Are you okay?" I asked him softly, my hand catching his as I pulled him into the kitchen. My arms found their way around him, holding him against my chest until he relaxed.

"Are you staying home?" He's barely dared to ask that, his fingers tangling in my shirt like he was willing me to stay there.

"Yes, Carlisle. Unless you want me to go." Sliding my hold on him up, I slowly rubbed his shoulder, biting back a smile when his visceral reaction to me leaving was to pull me into him.

"No, please stay," he pleaded. "...I need you today…" Suddenly, he hugged me tightly, to the point that it was hard for me to take a breath in. "Garrett…"

"I'll stay with you," I assured him. I slowly guided him forwards until he was sitting at the table, a little worried when I saw how nervous he was. "Are you hungry? You didn't have dinner last night." Like expected, he shook his head. I gave up on eating as well - not that I could have any appetite while he was so unsteady. "Back to bed, then? We were both up too late last night." I kissed his forehead, wanting to reassure him.

Eventually, he silently nodded and turned to head back down the hallway. He was so jittery that he struggled to walk without tripping, and I tried not to sigh; none of this was his fault. "Will you come?" he asked as he reached the bedroom doorway.

"Yeah, just give me a minute," I told him. While he waited, I quickly shoved the food I'd dragged out back into the fridge, seeming as we weren't going to have breakfast, and set about making hot chocolate. A couple of warm drinks later, I had Carlisle wrapped in our comforter in bed, cuddled into me while we watched children's cartoons on my laptop.

My hand wandered up his body, squeezing his shoulder before brushing my fingers through his hair. "I love you, Carlisle." Even though he was so near falling asleep that he couldn't really respond, his quiet hum brought a smile to my face. "Are you feeling better?"

He squeezed me in response, moulding his body to the shape of mine. "Yeah, I'm okay. I just need you to stay…"

I sank back into the pillows, letting my eyes fall closed as the exhaustion from the night before took over. "You couldn't make me leave if you tried."


	72. Chapter 72

**Just some fluffy domestic stuff**

The rest of the week went alright after that. I went to work like I was supposed to, and Carlisle seemed to be managing okay again. His company enrolled him in some kind of course held at the closest university which he was to start in a couple of weeks, and I returned to the same monotony that my job always was - boring, but stable at least. As much as I tried to pretend that staying home with him was a pain in the ass, I could have easily spent every day with him like that, if it didn't mean that he was feeling like shit. It made me a bit guilty that got enjoyment out of something that made him miserable.

Riley had appeared at my desk the moment I'd put my stuff down, and I slowly turned on my computer as I waited for him to come out with whatever it was he was about to. I didn't have to wait long. "Are you going to explain to me why you _abandoned_ me yesterday? I had to eat lunch _all_ alone." That was a total lie, and he was grinning like an idiot; pretty much everyone in the office got on well with him. He had plenty of friends to choose from.

I rolled my eyes at him, considering my reply as I logged into my computer desktop. "I had to stay home with Carlisle."

He huffed playfully. "You can't stay home every time he feels a little bit sick," he teased.

"He wasn't sick, he was upset, and…" I trailed off, not sure what to tell him and seeing his faint disapproval. As much as I loved him, I knew he was just after gossip and that he was never going to understand what was happening at home. There wasn't much I could tell him anyway.

"Same thing. He's an adult, Garrett, people get sad sometimes; he can handle it." A bit annoyed, he shoved the leg of my chair with his foot, rolling me backwards and away from my desk.

My nerves bristled, and I tried not to be irritated with him. "I know that, Riley, but I've never seen him get that way before. He wasn't doing well, and I can't just leave him by himself while he isn't coping. You would do the same for Victoria," I reminded him, perhaps a little too briskly.

"Yes, but she doesn't ask me to, so I don't," he grumbled.

"He didn't ask either; I offered."

"Even worse." A sigh hissed through his teeth, and then his smile returned. "You're buying coffee at lunch today; I'll buy the cake."

There was no way I would be eating anything from the place that he had in mind, but the weather outside had soured and a hot drink did sound good. "Fine, just go back over there," I told him, gesturing to his seat across the room. He hadn't gotten as far as turning on his computer yet, and his bag was still unpacked on his desk - he was going to get himself in trouble if he didn't hurry up and settle.

"You can't rid of me that easily, Gar," he teased, wandering over anyway. That name wasn't cute out of his mouth.

.

.

My job seemed extra tedious that day. Whether it was brought on by Carlisle's change of career title or not, I was full of raw nerves, and my co-workers were hitting every one of them. It felt like years before it was finally home time, despite me sneaking out five minutes early while everyone else talked about their weekend plans, and I was well aware that I hadn't been fun to be around all day.

The apartment was silent when I unlocked the door. The pitter patter of Fox's feet quickly tumbled down the hallway toward me, and I picked her up to dull the sting of Carlisle having gone to work. He'd been avoiding being there as much as possible all week, but still sucked it up enough to go in for a few hours each day as he tried not to piss anyone off. I didn't know when he'd left today, so I couldn't judge when he was going to be home, and I sat on the couch to sulk for the period that I was alone. My heart was beating a little too heavily as the anxiety of him being gone refused to calm, and it wasn't helped by my head being fuzzy from not eating all day.

His key in the lock tore my concentration from the TV. I jogged forward the few feet to rip open the front door, immediately tugging him inside and into my arms once he was in reach. He laughed out of shock, slipping his arms around my waist. "Everything okay, Gar?" he asked softly.

I squeezed him a little tighter, feeling a bit dumb for how impulsive that all was. "Yeah, sorry, I just...didn't have a good day, and I feel a bit shit, and I missed you."

He gently brought his lips to mine, softly sifting his fingers through my hair. "You're alright, though?"

"I'm fine, Carlisle." Now that he was home again, anyway.

.

.

We made dinner together that night. I got under his feet the entire time, and he eventually put me on vegetable peeling duty once I proved too distracted to not let the pots boil over. There wasn't going to be any complaints from me; Carlisle had showered and changed before we had started, still with wet hair and having stolen my sweatshirt, needing to push the sleeves back to keep his hands and forearms exposed. He looked particularly cute. Leaning the small of my back against the bench, I watched him while he managed the pans. A smile persistently tugged at the corners of my lips; he didn't enjoy cooking that much, and didn't usually stray far from what he already knew how to make, but this recipe was new to him and had him a bit flustered.

"Your mother makes this all the time? Are you sure it turns out okay?" he asked me, hiding a worried note in his voice. Mum had given us the recipe last time we had visited, a dish that she'd been cooking for me and Eleazar since we were kids.

I decided to put him out of his misery and actually help. "It'll be fine once it's finished; you'll like it," I promised. I stole the spoon from his hand, nudging him with my shoulder so he stepped away from stove.

He just smiled. "Whatever you say, Gar. You Americans like the weirdest things, sometimes." His hand landed against my spine, his fingertips trailing up my back. After a moment, the smile faded into a frown, and he leaned his head against my shoulder. "You haven't eaten at all today, have you?" he asked quietly.

"No, but I'll be eating in a minute," I reminded him. I leaned down to kiss his temple, quickly wanting to change the subject before it got uncomfortable. "How was work?"

"It was...better, I guess. I didn't freak out today at least." His voice was quiet, shy. "I can't wait to be done there." His attention wandered to our cupboards, and he pulled a couple of plates out from under the bench.

Trying not to let him focus on it too much, I stole a fork, scooping up some of the food from the pan once it was cooked. "Here, try this." I held it out to Carlisle.

He reluctantly took it from me, seeming unconvinced until he actually tasted it. "It's good," he admitted, laughing at himself for his hesitance. "Your mother is a good cook."

" _You_ made this, Carlisle, not mum," I reminded him. Sneaking my hands onto his waist, I pulled him closer again, placing a kiss on his forehead.

"Yeah, but it's her recipe."

"Doesn't matter."

.

.

We ate in front of the TV like we usually did, Fox impatiently settled on the couch between us in her quest to steal food from either of our plates. I pretended not to see as Carlisle purposefully slid a piece of chicken off of his fork, failing at hiding a smile when she snatched it from him. If her purring and him trying not to laugh hadn't given him away, her immediately trying to get something from me certainly did. I pushed her back into him, biting my lip to stop myself chuckling as she tried to bite me. "Don't feed the kitten _your_ dinner," I teased him.

"She's hungry too," he teased back. Having finished eating, he set his plate down and scooped the cat up.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my meal, pretty much shoveling it down my throat so that I would be finished too. Everything felt a bit better now that I was with Carlisle and I had something in my stomach - especially while he seemed at least semi-happy for the time being. "It's nice seeing you smile again, after you were so 'down' yesterday," I told him once I'd finished, setting my plate on top of his and slipping my hand onto his knee.

My statement made the heat rush to his face, and he was quiet for a minute. "Sorry, I don't really know what happened. I shouldn't have freaked out like that, but everything got too much, and…" His fingers covered mine, and he pulled his knees up so that he could lean sideways against me. "I'm really sorry; you shouldn't have to look after me like I'm your child."

I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. "It doesn't feel that way, Carlisle; even if things are rough at the moment, it doesn't feel like our relationship is any different to everyone else's. Riley thinks I baby you, though."

He groaned, his voice muffled by the fabric of my shirt. At first, I thought he was annoyed that I'd told someone else, but his quiet laugh suggested not. "He's right; you kind of do."

"Well, I wouldn't have to if you didn't forget how to feed yourself," I chuckled. It was a relief to be laughing about it; I wasn't sure what I was going to do if I wasn't allowed to say anything - it was going to be too much to deal with.

He winced, guilty. "At least I can still clean the cat's litter box, I guess?" He was right; of all the things he couldn't function enough to manage with, cleaning up after Fox wasn't one of them. And thank god, because I certainly did not have the stomach for it.

"You're such a dork; I love you." _Marry me._ Kissing his cheek, I squeezed him tightly against me for a second, pushing the thought out of my head; things were way too uncertain for us to be thinking about that. I wanted it though. Badly. The thought made my heart flutter so much it was embarrassing, and my whole body a little too warm. I slowly let Carlisle go, shifting forward in my seat. "I need to shower," I told him when he frowned. More, I needed to calm down before I worked myself up into a state.

.

.

Whoever had designed our new kitchen, I loved them. The cupboards above the sink were _just_ high enough to be out of Carlisle's reach, even when he stretched up on his toes to put the dishes away. I watched him trying to set a cup up there, letting him get a little flustered with the task before sneaking up behind him. I trailed my fingertips up his sides, letting my hands wander across his shoulder blades and up his neck, running my fingers through his hair and tilting his chin back so that I could kiss him. "Struggling, Carlisle?" I teased. I covered his hands with mine, taking the cup from him but not letting him step back from the counter.

He tried to turn to face me, struggling not to giggle as he realised he was trapped. Instead, he just leaned his weight back on his heels to push lightly against me. "I guess we didn't measure the shelves before we moved in," he teased back.

The mugs clinked together as I shoved them into the cupboard and pushed it shut, immediately dropping my arms down to coil them around Carlisle's waist, squeezing him against my chest. The fabric of his shirt shirted up, letting my skin rub against his. The warmth of his body soaked into mine, and I tugged him backwards until I was fully responsible for his weight, pressing a kiss against his throat. "Perhaps you should have grown," I murmured to him.

This time, he couldn't control a laugh. "Maybe you're just a giant."

I was pretty sure that being held the way I had him was making him very aware of the height difference between us. I couldn't say I didn't like it; I like it a lot, in fact. "Alistair and I are the same height," I reminded him, shifting my hold on him so that he had to really stretch to keep his feet on the ground. Amusingly, being mostly responsible for his weight didn't off-balance me at all, and it was rather comforting.

Twisting, he forced me to loosen my hold on him, edging around to face me. He wrapped his arms around my neck and leaned up to bring our lips together, pulling himself up to get closer to me. "Either way; I love this place."

 _I love you_. I reached up and laced our fingers together, placing another kiss on his forehead and pulling his hands away. Despite the season, the rain was really starting to poor outside, and it made me want to shiver despite the warmth of the house. I instantly tugged Carlisle's hoodie closer around him. "Do you want to finish watching our movie?" It was still paused on the TV still, but I knew he actually wanted to go to bed.

"Come." He grabbed a fistful of my sweatshirt, tugging me toward the longue again. Falling into a heap on the couch, he pulled me down next to him. His hand snuck onto my thigh as I pushed play on the remote, slowly rubbing my leg. Already, he was fighting falling asleep.

I wanted to try it. Doing it while we were standing with the chance of hurting him was too risky, but it wouldn't matter if I dropped him while we were sitting like this. He wrapped his arms around my shoulder as soon as I leaned over him, resting his forehead against my neck as I slipped my arms behind his back and under his legs. If he'd gotten a fright when I'd picked him up, he didn't show it, quickly relaxing into me. I kept my arm around him once he was in my lap, slowly running the fabric of his pants through my fingertips. "Tired?" I asked, shifting my hand to squeeze his shoulder.

He nodded, teasing slow circles against my chest. "I'm nervous about starting that course."

"I know, Carlisle, but remember if you hate it then you don't have to keep doing it," I reminded him. Reaching over, I grabbed the blanket off the arm of the couch, draping it over his shoulders; I could last out the movie, but I doubted he could; he was already falling asleep. It prompted him to shift slightly, making sure that I was enveloped under the cover as well and rubbing my side.

It took all of five minutes for him to fall asleep. I struggled to keep my eyes open until the credits rolled across the TV screen and then gently shook him awake; selfishly, I needed sleep as much as he did, and I couldn't sleep comfortably without him anymore. "Bed," I told him when he glanced up in confusion.

"Thank god," he sighed, unfolding himself from me. He turned to offer me his hand to pull myself up once he was standing, and I gladly took it.

"You just slept through the whole thing," I teased, kissing his temple. "You can't _still_ be tired."

"It was a boring movie." Smiling, he kept his fingers around my wrist, guiding me down the hallway.

"You chose it." I locked my free arm around his waist and pushed him into our bedroom. I slowly stripped down to my underwear while he fussed around, brushing his teeth and straightening the bed enough for us to sleep in it. My smile refused to budge, despite how long it was taking him to fuss around. Even though he was yawning every couple of minutes, he still disappeared from the room for a few minutes, unable to stomach going to bed without following whatever finicky routine he'd created for himself. I just got between the sheets and lay down; I couldn't do anything to make him hurry up, no matter how badly I just wanted him beside me. "Happy?" I teased once he _finally_ crawled in beside me.

His face warmed, and he quickly leaned over to switch off the light to hide it. His hand landed on my chest, followed by his cheek against my collarbone a second later. "Yeah. I'm happy when I'm with you."

.

.

It was 12AM when I squinted at my phone to see the time, having woken up to find myself alone in bed and confused as to where Carlisle had gone. The bedroom door was now shut, which we never did so that Fox could come and go at night as she pleased, and I immediately started to worry that something wasn't right. The wooden floors were cold on my feet as I rolled out of bed, and I followed the glow of the kitchen light to the table.

As soon as I saw Alistair was there, I knew something had gone wrong. He had his back to me and didn't see me in the doorway but Carlisle immediately noticed me, quickly shaking his head before turning back to his friend. Alistair apologised and he shushed him. "It's okay, Al. Is this hurting?" As I crept closer, I could see that he was carefully cleaning blood off of his face with a cloth, an angry gash in his forehead.

"What happened?" I asked hesitantly. Part of me already knew the answer, but I just didn't want to believe it.

"It wasn't his fault," Alistair immediately piped up. "I shouldn't have brought up the subject while he was in that state-"

"He was the one that decided to get drunk and throw a bottle at you," he interrupted harshly. "You didn't make him do that." Stepping back, he ran the cloth under the kitchen tap, a wave of red rushing from it under the water.

"I know you don't like him, Carlisle, but he's really not that bad; he's cruel to you because he thinks you're going to try and break us up," he defended. "And don't try anything, because he's only going to try and hurt you." He pulled back, and they started at each other for a moment before my boyfriend rolled his eyes.

"He can do what he likes to me, but I'm going to lose my mind if he does anything to Garrett," he muttered under his breath, not deterred at all. There was a loaded pause before he spoke again. "I don't want him to hurt you again, Al, please don't stay with him."

Alistair batted his hand away from his face as he reached up to start on the wound again. "Just stay away from him;, he's going to keep being cruel to you. No crazy bullshit please; he's like ten feet taller than you, and if he lashes out, you're not going to be able to do anything about it."

"What does height have to do with this?" There was a dark note in his voice that I really didn't trust; it wasn't normal for him.

"Just stop it." That was a plea, and he was tightly holding Carlisle's wrist, forcing him to answer as they stared each other down.

"I won't do anything, Al," he sighed, leaning down to hug his shoulders. "I just hate that he hurts you." That was the end of their argument. Carlisle finished cleaning the cut and made Alistair a warm drink, setting up a makeshift bed on the couch for him. "You're not dizzy, are you? How hard did he hit you?" This time he presented him with an ice pack, managing a worried smile as his friend took it.

"I'm okay, I'm only cut from the glass, I think," he mumbled looking down at his mug.

"Your vision isn't blurry?" His interrogation continued for another few or so, until Alistair managed to convince him that he didn't have a concussion and was lying down on the couch. "Promise to wake me up if you start to feel sick?" He scooped up Fox, setting her in Alistair's arms as he settled under the blankets. The kitten mewed and resisted for a second, but quickly gave in once Al started to pet her.

"Yes, Carlisle." He caught his arm, pulling him down for another hug before he could get away. "Thank you for all this."

"Don't worry about it; just get some rest, Al, you need it." His fingers sifted through his hair as he brushed it off his face, the gentle touch more of a caress than anything else. I felt awkward, like I shouldn't be in the room with them; I'd never seen them be this soft with each other, and I felt like I was invading their privacy. I was itching to get Carlisle back though.

My boyfriend waited until Alistair was entirely settled before coming over to me, immediately reaching for my hand. His hold on me was almost painfully tight, and he was unmistakably upset when I glanced down at him. Leaving on a light in the kitchen incase Alistair had to get up again, he pulled me back toward our room.

"Sorry we woke you up; he called me and said that he was hurt, and I couldn't just leave him, and I didn't want him to be with Randal while he was still like that," he rambled once he'd closed the door. As he spoke, his eyes welled with tears, as much as he tried to hide it from me.

"It's fine, Carlisle," I assured him. "What's wrong?" Holding my hand against the side of his face, I guided his lips to mine, brushing my thumb over his cheek.

"Nothing, I just...hitting me is one thing, but I didn't think he'd do that to Alistair," he explained softly, melting into my arms. "I wish they wouldn't stay together, but Al is on Randal's side and I know he loves him- I don't want him to get hurt again."

I pulled him to bed with me, kissing his forehead, his cheek, along his jaw, until our lips met again. "I know, Carlisle. I don't mind if he stays with us for a while, if that's what needs to happen; I hate Randal as much as you do." Realistically, I was more angry that he'd upset Carlisle again rather than hurting Alistair, as horrible as it was. "Let's just go to bed right now, though? We can talk about it in the morning."

He nodded, slipping between the sheets after me. His hand fell on my chest as I sank back into the pillows, and I slowly rubbed his fingers, letting my eyes fall closed. If nothing else, Alistair and Randal's rocky relationship had made me realise how much I loved the boy in my arms.

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Alistair wasn't feeling too good the next morning. Carlisle promised to stay with him for the day, coaxing him into breakfast and coffee and constantly fussing every time his friend admitted that he was in pain. With the way he'd dealt with the wound, he would have made a good nurse. I couldn't bring myself to be jealous; it was sweet and I could see the comfort was platonic, and that Al really needed it. The way my boyfriend touched him was different to the way he touched me; despite letting Alistair hug him, cuddling into him as they sat together, his hands never wandered, and he didn't relax quite the same as he usually did. I repressed a smile and just went to work.

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	73. Chapter 73

**Is this...is this a weekly update?**

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"Can you please answer the door?" Although he was the one that had phoned him, Alistair just about jumped through the roof when Randal had knocked on the door. It had taken him all day to work up the courage, and he hadn't sent the text until after the three of us had had dinner together.

Carlisle was nervous too. His eyes widened at the sound of Randal at the door, but he did get up to open it. His hands shook as he shoved them into his pockets, and I hurried to stand behind him, my hands closing over his shoulders as I got ready to pull him out of the way. I managed to stop him before he had the chance to unlock it. "I'll get it," I whispered to him over his shoulder. "Go and sit with Alistair."

He didn't. He grabbed my hand and refused to let go, but did step slightly behind me, both arms coiling around my arm. His breath stopped as I turned the lock, and I was sure mine did too. Surprisingly, the man we came face to face with looked oddly broken. "Please can I see Alistair," Randal asked, his voice croaking a little.

My boyfriend's fingernails dug into my bicep so hard that I was sure he was going to break the skin. "You can come in," he told him stiffly. I _hated_ the idea of that brute in our apartment, but I knew what Carlisle was doing; he wasn't about to put Alistair entirely at his mercy on his own.

Randal hesitated, but slowly crept into the kitchen after us. His shoulders were slumped, and he looked rather defeated, his frowning deepening when he reached for Alistair and he flinched away. Alistair kept looking to Carlisle for reassurance, and I got the sense he'd rather have been holding his hand instead of his boyfriend's. An apology spewed out of him, and he tried again to touch him, this time trying for a hug. Alistair allowed it, though his body remained stiff and his hands remained in his pockets.

I trusted the asshole enough not to beat the shit out of anyone while he was in someone else's house, and I gently guided Carlisle back into the lounge to give them a little space. They were still in sight and we could still hear their conversation, so I judged it safe. Carlisle was going to pull a muscle if he remained as tense as he was. "Relax; we can call the police if anything happens," I told him in a whisper, kissing his throat. "It's okay, just breathe." Winding my arms around his waist, I held him against my chest.

He winced violently when Alistair raised his voice, half-hearted slamming his hand against Randal's chest and shoving him back. There was tense pause before Randal's silence pushed Alistair over the edge, and he was suddenly screaming at him. It was a little awkward watching them have a rather personal argument in front of us, and the raised voices were making Carlisle anxious. I had half a mind to ask them to leave. I would have if hadn't of endangered Alistair, and immediately landed me single.

A few more minutes of their yelling, and I was convinced Carlisle was going through some kind of ptsd panic attack. He suddenly shoved away from me, disappearing down the hallway and into our bedroom. I was scared to leave the other two alone; he was just going to have to wait it out. It seemed like an eternity of them getting angrier and angrier at each other, Randal apologising while Alistair screamed at him. Just when I was about to intervene, Al managed to step back and get a grip. "If you _ever_ touch me like that again, we're done, Randal," he told him firmly. It seemed stupid to me that he would even tolerate once, but there wasn't anything I could do about it.

"I won't, babe," he promised, keeping his tone gentle as he leaned forward in an attempt to kiss him. "I've already promised you that I won't; I love you, Al. I'm sorry." Slowly, Alistair melted under his words, and I wondered why he couldn't see through them. "I missed you last night; come home with me, baby."

I could have hit Alistair for agreeing. Instead, I pulled him aside as they turned to leave, lowering my voice to speak to him. "You come straight back here if anything happens, alright? We're always happy to have you if you need somewhere to stay. One of us can come and get you in the middle of the night, if we need to, just call us." I barely resisted reprimanding him for being so stupid, but it wasn't going to do any good at this point.

"Thanks, Garrett." He hugged me without warning, squeezing so tightly it was hard to breathe for a second - more than enough proof that he was still frightened. The affection was unexpected, and I found myself smiling in response. Neither of them seemed to realise that Carlisle was gone as they said goodbye, but I was more than happy to close the door on the two of them.

I immediately traced him down the hallway, finding him sitting on our bed with a frightened kitten. My entrance into the room had made both of them jump, except while Fox purred, my boyfriend was barely restraining tears, absolute guilt on his face.

"I'm sorry- the shouting- it's too much like Caius and my dad- I'm trying to stop running away but-"

"Hey, Carlisle, it's okay, they're gone." Kneeling in front of him, I pulled him into me, locking my arms around him. "You're getting better; you didn't panic in front of them," I reminded him. "Don't freak out about it now; it's over."

Thankfully, he just nodded, wrapping his arms around my neck and burying his face in my shoulder. It took a few minutes for his breathing to regulate again, and even longer for the colour to return to his face. "...Do you really think I'm getting better?" he asked softly, his voice muffled by my clothing.

I pushed him so that he landed on his back, leaning over him to gently bring our lips together. My thumb trailed across his cheek as I cupped his face in my hands, a grin irresistible when he managed to smile a little. "You're doing so much better."

He frowned a little, sighing through his teeth. "Alistair left with him? Was it because of me?"

"No, of course not. He and Randal 'made up', apparently." I kissed his forehead, letting my weight rest against him.

He shifted under me, slipping one of his legs between mine and leaning back into the mattress. "I don't think that'll last long…"

"Me neither, but we'll bail Al out again if we have to." I didn't want him to think about it anymore, quickly glancing around the room for something to distract him. My gaze landed on our bookshelf across the room, narrowing in on one novel in particular. Sliding off the bed, I went to get it. "Remember this?" I held up the book I'd bought from him when he still worked at the bookshop, before we started dating and when I was too scared to talk to him.

His quiet laughter filled the room. "Yeah, did you ever read it?"

"Parts of it," I admitted sheepishly. "Really, I just wanted to buy it from you." My fingertips traced the embossed cover as I thought about how far we'd come. "We've done well together, you know…especially considering all that has happened since we've been together." Broaching the subject was a little unappealing, but it was true all the same; my panic attacks were a lot less than they were a year ago, and I thought Carlisle was coping surprisingly well seeming as he'd been through a few months of hell. Perhaps it was Randal being such an asshole that made me so grateful for him. I could definitely be in a lot worse of a situation.

Carlisle was suddenly on his feet and at my side, his arms around my waist and his head against my shoulder as I flicked through a few pages. "I guess so, all thanks to you."

"That isn't true; you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

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Father's day snuck up on us, and I still wasn't sure how Carlisle was going to manage it. It was the day before he was due to start his training course, and he'd been so preoccupied with it that I had assumed he'd forgotten we were supposed to be going out to brunch. I woke up far too early and had thought he was asleep, until he rolled over and wrapped an arm around my torso. Capturing him and moulding my body to the shape of his, I slowly rubbing his shoulder. "You feeling okay?" I checked. Part of me wanted him to back out; I was tired, and could have easily slept another few hours. Driving all the way to mum and dad's town really wasn't appealing.

"Yes, Garrett, are you? You seem worried?" He hugged one of my arms, refusing to let me move away from him until I answered after hearing my tone. "Is it the food that's making you stressed? We could just order coffee; it's only brunch, after all."

"I'm not that nervous, I just can't be bothered," I admitted. I certainly wasn't thrilled about eating out, but knowing that Carlisle wasn't about to lose it half way through made me feel a bit better.

He laughed, scrambling away to switch off our alarm clock when it stated to blare. "Do you want to shower before we go?" Already out of bed and halfway across the room, he was far too chirpy for the hour. I would never get used to that, no matter how long we lived together.

"Five more minutes," I grumbled, pulling a pillow over my face to block out the light, suddenly wanting to sleep again. The water started in the bathroom, but it wasn't enticing enough to make me want to throw myself out of bed any earlier. I knew I'd just lost my opportunity, but I couldn't bring myself to care yet; we didn't have enough time for anything other than washing anyway.

Next thing I knew, I was having a towel thrown at me, violently jolting me awake again. "You have twenty minutes, hurry up," Carlisle told me, mumbling past the toothbrush in his mouth. He was already dressed, and the whirring of the washing machine in the background suggested that he had already started today's chores. No doubt it was nervous energy. Talking had made him cough, my frowning making his cheeks pink.

"I thought you said you were feeling okay," I accused, shuffling up the bed to sit up. "Come here." Once he was close enough, I wrapped my hands around his. "Are you not well? You're not allowed to get sick now; you're starting your course tomorrow."

"I'm fine, Gar, just hurry up and get dressed before we're late; your brother is already mad at me, let's not give him another reason," he said quietly.

"Alright," I reluctantly agreed. A cold had never killed anyone since the twentieth century, I supposed. I quickly scrambled around to find something to wear and threw myself into the shower, trying to be at least semi-presentable before we had to face my family. I could only hope that Eleazar would be nice today. _Stupid fucking Randal._

As I slowly got dressed, I watched Carlisle tie his shoes and struggle with his tie, anxious fingers giving him away as he fumbled. I'd forgotten how awfully cute he looked dressed up. The last time we'd had to was for Edward and Bella's wedding, and he was so sick then it was hard to notice anything else. I like this half-formal, half casual thing a lot.

He noticed me staring after a little while, his face warming a bit. "Is this okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I grinned. "Although, I'm sure that tie used to be mine."

He smirked at my teasing, rolling his eyes. "I could say the same to you; since when do you wear grey, Garrett?"

"I'm not sure, ever since you stole my blue one," I laughed. In reality, I really liked the colour on him, and had 'accidently' misplaced the other until he'd settled on something to wear; I knew exactly what where it was. The dresser across the room, third draw up on the left, under a pair of socks. Well hidden, if I said so myself.

He wandered over to me, his hands landing on my shoulders as he stood on his toes to kiss me. "You look really nice. Ready to go?"

I gently smoothed his tie, tugging it into place as an excuse to stall a little longer. "Yeah, let's go before we're late."

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As we drove, I became very aware of Carlisle was sniffling and coughing all the time. He hadn't complained yet, and it had been almost an hour, but I was sure that this was about to turn into something. "You're sick," I accused as he sneezed _again._ I couldn't help but be a little annoyed; we could have stayed home if he'd said he wasn't feeling well, and we wouldn't have to be doing this.

He shook his head. "It's allergies from the stupid flowers; I'm not sick," he groaned.

I couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Yesterday you were saying how much you liked them," I teased. I wasn't sure what type of neighbourhood he'd grown up in, but he'd been adorably excited when the trees on our street had broken out into flower a few days ago, and cute neighbourhoods like this obviously weren't something he was used to.

"That was before they made it hard to breath," he laughed. It ended in a coughing fit, his eyes watering until it finally stopped.

In the whole time I'd known him, I'd never seen Carlisle get allergies before. "Has this happened before, or is this a new thing?" I asked hesitantly. The last thing we needed was a new problem, but luckily he just nodded. Hoping it might soothe his throat enough for him to actually talk to me, I past him a drink bottle.

"Thanks," he managed to get out once he could breathe again. "It happens every summer; we just didn't live together last year so you didn't have to put up with it. It was Alistair's problem. I'm okay, though, it's just...embarrassing, if anything."

I leaned over to kiss his cheek as we stopped at a traffic light. "Are you _sure_ you're okay to be out today, then?"

He rolled his eyes. "Stop trying to get out of this; it's father's day. We don't have to stay long if you don't want to, but we need to go for a little while."

"This means a lot to you, doesn't it?" I asked softly, my fingers finding his.

"Your dad has been good to me," he mumbled, suddenly occupied with something out the window. His hold on me tightened a little, his fingertips brushing the back of my hand. "I want to be good for him too." It would have been a sweet statement, had he not started to choke again. He tried to hide it for a moment, but gave in when he knew he'd been caught. "I'm _fine,_ Garrett."

"We're getting allergy pills on the way home," I told him firmly.

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We'd brought the giant teddy bear from the carnival with us to give to Kate, and her face lit up as soon as we walked into the cafe carrying it. Dad was the first to greet us, standing up from the table with a huge grin. "How are my boys?" His attempt to wrap his arms around both of us at the same time was awkward, to say the least; I was a little taller than him, while Carlisle was a little shorter, and it off balanced the three of us, leaving everyone at the table chuckling.

"We're good, dad," I assured him as Carlisle mumbled the same. "Happy father's day." Eleazar did nothing but fail not to scowl as we gave his daughter the bear, obviously unimpressed at the fondness she had for my boyfriend. We sat at the table with the rest of my family, and I tried not to be mad at him.

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It turns out that boutique cafes are not the place for small children. Despite my brother and his wife's best attempts, Kate was still terrorizing the place while we waited for menus. Other diners looked on disapprovingly as she ran up and down the aisle, tugging table cloths and getting under the wait staff's feet. Eleazar was getting red in the face, while Carmen gave up trying to scold her and kept her head down. My niece's chaotic energy was winding me up too; I already didn't want to be here, and waiting for her to fall and hurt herself or destroy something was making my heart race.

I was ready to go home by the time a waitress came around to us. Everyone else ordered food, and my head spun a bit as I just ordered coffee, squeezing Carlisle's hand so tightly under the table I was sure I was hurting him. He just patiently rubbed my fingers, apparently well aware that I was freaking out. I leaned my head against his shoulder, wishing we could just pack up and leave. "Carlisle…" I whispered to him.

"It's okay, Gar," he whispered back, resting his cheek on the top of my head. He was trying not to cough again, and I hated being here even more now, as much as I loved my dad. The dishes arrived eventually and it still wasn't enough to coax Kate into sitting at the table with us. Her mother tried to rein her in, but she wasn't having it, running around and around the place at full speed.

It all came to a head as the waitress tried to set my coffee on the table. My niece's foot caught on the table leg as she tore around the corner, and I watched in slow motion as she started to fall. The coffee fell from the edge of the table as her tiny hands caught the table cloth, and in that split second I pictured a million different scenarios of the liquid burning her, the horrified expressions of my family ensuring me they were thinking the same thing. My reflexes failed me; I wanted to grab her, but my hands weren't following instructions, suddenly useless.

Out of nowhere, Carlisle ripped his hand out of mine, scooping Kate up just before she hit the ground. She whined and cried as he lifted her into her lap, frightened by the sudden change of events. "Is the drink on you? Are you hurt?" He asked frantically, quickly checking her over. She shook her head, her sobbing turning to whimpers as she hugged him. We all breathed a sigh of relief.

The waitress hurried to get some napkins to clean up the mess, her face bright red as she apologised to us. She came back with a piece of cake and another coffee, passing me the mug and giving the treat to my niece. We'd have to tip the poor woman a fortune to make up for this mess.

Despite Carmen trying to coax her, Kate stayed firmly on Carlisle's knee, refusing to move no matter what. "It's okay," Carlisle awkwardly assured her. "She can stay there." My boyfriend's phone quickly became an object of fixation as soon as she was done with her food, and the peace was kept as he let her fiddle with the camera and attempt some of the games, half listening to her nonsense babble and half talking to dad.

I managed to get about half of my coffee down before starting to feel too sick to have anymore. The conversation I tried to hold with mum was failing, but I wasn't sure how to get Carlisle's attention now that he was holding Kate without causing a scene. I was getting lightheaded and couldn't think properly, and I was sure my parents were starting to notice. Needing an escape, I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

The restroom door swung open not long after I'd entered, and warm arms were suddenly around my waist. "You okay, Gar? Do you need to leave?"

I forced myself to calm down a little before I answered him. _No need to overreact more than you already have_. It didn't help; as shitty as I felt about it, I really couldn't stay here any longer without losing my shit. "Would it be okay if we had mum and dad over for dinner one night? I need to go, and I feel really bad about it, and they haven't seen our new place yet."

"Yeah, of course." He leaned up on his toes to kiss me. "Let's go home, then."

"Thanks, Carlisle," I sighed, letting him comfort me while I got a grip again. I kept a tight hold of his hand as we went to say goodbye, and my parents immediately took us up on the dinner offer. I just ignored their concerned looks while we paid for what we'd ordered. Mostly, I was just glad to be out of there.

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It had taken me a good five minutes of driving before the tightness in my chest fully dissolved. "Allergy pills, right?" I remembered, glancing at Carlisle. At least going home meant that he didn't have to feel unwell in public. It was going to kill me if I had to listen to him sniff and sneeze all day.

"If you're feeling okay enough to stop, otherwise I can come back out later."

"No, it's okay. We can go now." Going to the pharmacy would be a good distraction; I felt like absolute shit for having to leave. The feeling wasn't getting any less, and by the time we got there, I kind of wanted to throw myself under a bus for doing that to dad. Carlisle kept glancing at me, seeming to know something was wrong but unwilling to push me in public. I grabbed his hand before we could get out of the car. "...I have to tell my parent's what's wrong with me; I can't keep abandoning family events without an explanation, even if I am better than I was…but I think I need you to be there too, or I'm going to freak out…"

"We can talk about it when they come for dinner, if you want?" he suggested softly, forever gentle.

I nodded, already nervous. By the time I pulled up outside of the pharmacy, Carlisle was stuck in another coughing fit. It took him a minute to be able to breathe enough to refuse my offer to go into the shop for him, and even then, his cheeks were still red from the exertion. Instead, I went in _with_ him. Maybe we could both survive if we went together; I could stop him from collapsing from lack of oxygen, and he could stop me losing my mind before we got home.

It didn't take him long to locate the pills. He was visibly frustrated about having to buy it in the first place,but was still polite to the woman behind the counter as he paid for it. She took one look at him and smiled sympathetically. "You taken this before, hun?" she asked him.

To his credit, he tried hard not to cringe at the name - and failed miserably. "Yes, thanks," he told her stiffly. He pretty much fled the shop after that, keeping a tight hold on my hand to drag me with him.

"What's the matter? Are you allergic to the pharmacy too?" I teased, catching his waist before he could get too far ahead of me. Pressing a quick kiss against his neck, I felt a bit more secure with him this close to me.

"Nothing, I'm just sick of taking pills for everything; it's everyone's solution to everything, right?" he grumbled. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was an antidepressant related issue rather than the allergy pills.

I wrapped my arms around him before he could get in the car in an attempt to distract him. "You did well with Kate today." Eleazar had stopped glaring at him too, as an added bonus.

"I didn't mean to grab her so roughly; I kept thinking she was about to be burned." He picked at his fingers, watching the uneven cobble stones at our feet. The car beeped as I unlocked it, and he turned back to face me. "Your brother didn't seem upset with me at least."

Unable to resist a smile, I kissed his forehead. "He's lucky that she didn't actually hurt herself; he has no reason to be upset with you. About anything."

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Thankfully, most of Carlisle's symptoms eased after he'd taken the medication. The only downside was that it made him rather sleepy, but I was having problems seeing that as a disadvantage if it meant that I could keep him on the couch with me for the rest of the day. I kept him wrapped in a blanket while he tried not to fall asleep. "Feeling better?" I teased. The thought of having him away from me and in a new environment turned my stomach, and reminding myself that he was an adult really wasn't helping.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "I love you; thanks for looking after me."

"I love you too. Get some sleep before your big day tomorrow."


	74. Chapter 74

**Hello again, as usual I've done a quick grammar check, but I'll fix any huge errors that I missed as I find them. Thanks for sticking around with my uneven updates recently, I've written parts of the next few chapters, so hopefully it'll get a bit more regular over the next few weeks.**

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This must be how parents feel when they're sending their kid to school on the first day. I was sure of it. I just wanted today to be over to have him back in my arms again. He was dressed, but barely - his clothing was askew and his hair had fallen in his face, and it was obvious he wasn't feeling good this morning. He was supposed to be starting his course in an hour or so, but he was already running late. Once he was closer, I untucked his sweater where it had caught on his belt, tugging his clothing back into place as he leaned into my chest. I brushed my fingers through his hair when he groaned quietly. "Are the pills helping?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm just sleepy," he admitted. He'd gotten out bed with barely enough time to shower, but had given up rushing and resigned himself to just being a few minutes late. The medication wasn't helping him move any faster either.

"Good luck with today. I'm sorry you feel awful, but you look cute," I teased. It was rather chilly this morning which was only making it harder to leave the house; I could have happily spent all day in bed without a complaint. We were barely out of summer, but it felt like snow wasn't too far off. I ran my hands down his arms, gently pushing the sleeves back over his fingers and leaning forward to bring my lips to his. Even after being together for a year and a half, I still found it sweet when he wore my clothing, even more so when I knew he did it because he found it comforting. "I love you."

"I love you too; I'll be alright." He slipped his arms around my waist once I'd let his hands go, not ready to break the contact between us.

"No getting sick; no more sniffling," I chuckled, pressing another gentle kiss against his forehead.

Somehow managing to smile despite himself, he squeezed me a little tighter. "Okay, Gar."

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I was a mess all day at work. I couldn't even park my car well. The whole time, I was expecting to come home to tears and a meltdown, and I wasn't sure that I could handle another panic attack of the same magnitude as the last one. Riley badgered me until I went out for coffee with him at lunch time, but thankfully he didn't drag my other coworkers along too. I still felt awkward around them.

"Will you come over for a beer this weekend? Bring Carlisle?" he asked when we were barely through the front doors. He frowned at my reaction to my boyfriend's name - which was to quickly check my phone screen in case I'd missed a call - and then sighed quietly. "Are you two okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine. We'll come, Riley. Or I'll come. He'll probably come too," I rambled, my brain short-circuiting and making forming a coherent sentence nearly impossible. My head was rushing ahead of me as I struggled not to think of my boyfriend on the other side of town, hoping to god that he wasn't freaking out while he was all on his own. Not that I was doing much better at the moment. Another thought popped into my head that made my feet stop on the pavement. "We can't; my parents are coming for dinner on Saturday."

"Then come to mine on Friday. They're not staying with you, right?" He nudged me forward with his shoulder. "Come on, Garrett, stop avoiding me. I'm not going to force food down your throat." Partly teasing but partly serious, he continued walking to make me keep up with him.

"It's not that, Ry, I just…" It _was_ that. It was exactly that. He knew it too, and there was no lying to him. "Fine, but only if Carlisle will come with me," I agreed hesitantly. I already knew that he probably wouldn't want to go; if he was anxious at work, he was hardly going to want to go out again after he got home. I really shouldn't be using him as an excuse, but I was going to if it got me out of something awkward - I didn't want a meltdown in front of my friend.

He rolled his eyes but didn't comment on it. "Are you sure you're up for watching me eat my sandwich without your boyfriend now then?" he teased me. He pulled it from his pocket as we entered the coffee shop, waving it in front of my face as he grinned. _Asshole._

"You're a dickhead," I grumbled, trying not to smile. I could hardly be mad at him; it really was pathetic on my behalf, and it was hard not to love Riley.

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.

I'd gotten home before Carlisle, and had been stewing about how he'd coped on the couch for an hour by the time he finally came in. I was almost too scared to ask. "How'd everything go?" I grabbed his hand as he came closer, abruptly pulling him down next to me.

"It was good, I guess. Everyone seems nice, and the programmes that we have to use are kind of cool." Tucking his legs under himself, he curled up against my side, resting his head against my shoulder. The tension melted from my body as he spoke, pure relief setting it. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Yeah, I am now. I was just worried about you." Maybe just a touch over protective. I was finally able to relax now he was home, though. His fingers brushed my side as he leaned in closer, and I flicked on the TV for some background noise. My eyes fell closed as I rested my cheek against the top of his head, my hand wandering up to squeeze his shoulder. "It didn't make you too anxious, being in a room with so many people?"

"It was fine. I didn't get sick at least, and I didn't worry about Caius too much." Capturing one of my hands in both of his, he squeezed it, his fingertips teasing the back of my palm.

"Thank god." It seemed highly unlikely to me that Carlisle would have enough confidence to perform in a job interview if he had chosen to quit, and I couldn't deal with him freaking out every time he had to leave the house any longer. As I spoke, I pulled him into my lap, smiling at the feeling of his arms around my shoulders and his lips against my throat. I didn't know what I was going to do if all of this wasn't over now. "Yeah, I was scared I was going to panic as soon as I got there. I'm sorry I put us through that," he murmured, guilty. He hadn't coughed himself to death either, which was an added bonus. He sat with me a while longer, letting my hands wander over his body and burying his face in my shoulder.

Both of us were tired, and it didn't take us long after dinner to curl up in bed. I struggled not to fall asleep while he was brushing his teeth. My eyelids were heavy, sleep very hard to resist. Rolling over didn't help. I was barely conscious when he lay down beside me, his arms around my waist and his chest pressed against my back. He kissed my neck as he moulded his body to the shape of mine. It was warm, and I could guess why he usually liked being held like this. I certainly wasn't going to fight him on it; I could have stayed in his arms forever. Instead, I trailed my fingertips up and down his forearm, sinking further into the pillows. "Riley wants us to go over to his place for a couple of drinks this Friday," I said quietly.

"Okay," he agreed. It didn't seem to worry him, and I wondered if he was just too tired to really comprehend what I'd just told him.

"We don't have to go, Carlisle," I reminded him, hoping he'd back out. I _really_ didn't want to go; it was already making me anxious.

"Exactly." He kissed me again as I sighed. "But I'm happy to go if you want to."

I fought my way onto my other side so that I could face him. "I don't want to, but I feel like I have to; he's always so tolerant of me. It's not him, it's just that my parents are coming already, and I don't want to have to deal with people two nights in a row." Selfish, selfish, selfish. That's what all this was.

His gentle fingers smoothed the fabric of my shirt against my chest as he frowned. "Perhaps we could see Riley another weekend then? Or reschedule with your parents?"

I thought for a moment, resting my arm across his waist to hold his body against mine. "I think I'd rather get it over and done with; then we can have Sunday to recuperate."

He laughed, his lips brushing mine as he leaned in for a kiss. "He's your friend, Gar, he's not going to do anything horrible to you."

A few weeks ago I would have called Randal the same thing, but I wasn't about to remind him of that.

.

.

The rest of the week passed surprisingly smoothly. Carlisle seemed to be enjoying what he was doing and had managed not to succumb to hayfever, and work was tolerable enough for me. Friday came up almost too quickly, the thought of this weekend looming over me. We didn't have to go anywhere until 8 pm, so we had dinner together before showering; I wasn't going to be able to eat at Riley's place, and Carlisle insisted on us - or rather me - eating before we left. He didn't say anything to me about it, but I knew he was nervous too. Curling up in bed seemed like the best option for both of us.

"When did we become such old people? Shouldn't going out on a Friday night be fun?" he teased, watching me from the foot of the bed as I got changed out of my work clothes. The conversation had been strained between us tonight, but the joke made me smile anyway, a chuckle building in my chest.

"I'll be 30 in a couple of years," I reminded him. "That's almost mid-life crisis territory."

Now it was his turn to laugh. He leaned down to scoop up fox as her nose pushed at his ankles, weaving her tail through his finger tips. "30 is hardly 'mid-life', Gar, unless you plan on making me a widower at 57." Smiling as I leaned down to kiss him, he tangled his free hand in my hair, holding me there a second. "We don't have to dress up tonight, right?"

I didn't know why he was asking - he'd just watched me hunt around for a pair of jeans for the last five minutes. "If he wants us in this weather, he can have us in comfy clothes," I sighed. Defeated, I sat down next to him, sliding my hand onto his knee. "I don't want to go." The downpour outside wasn't making it anymore appealing; we were going to be soaked the moment we stepped out of our building.

He wrapped his arms around me, pressing another kiss against my cheek. "Me neither, but it's only for a little while." There was a pause before he spoke again, his voice softer now. "He's your friend, Garrett, what are you worried about?"

"I don't know, I'd just rather stay here. We'd better hurry up though, if we don't want to be late." Anymore sitting at home, and I was going to back out. We needed to stop at a liquor store to get something to drink anyway. Neither of us ever kept alcohol in the house anymore, seeming as we didn't really drink very much, and I sure as hell wasn't staying sober if Riley was drinking - I could already hear the teasing.

We decided to walk to the shop, and then catch a taxi to my friend's apartment on the assumption that neither of us would be in any state to drive home at the end of tonight. God bless umbrellas. Carlisle seemed to reconsider for a moment at the last minute, calculating the effects of not having immediate access to a way home. "Maybe I won't drink; I'll drive us home afterwards."

I shook my head; he was going to be too nervous all night if he didn't. "Don't worry about it, Carlisle, we can always walk for a little while if either of us needs to get out in a hurry." That was for my benefit too - I _really_ didn't want to go.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Alright."

.

.

Riley hugged both of us upon opening the front door to our knock. He was quite obviously a few beers deep already, a little unsteady on his feet as he ushered us both inside. His girlfriend gave us a cautious smile, rolling her eyes in apology as he took us out onto the balcony, thankfully protected from the weather by an overhanging eve. I could imagine it to be quite pretty in the summer; someone had set troughs of pot plates along the perimeter of the deck, a couple of chairs at each end.

Carlisle reached for my hand as we sat opposite Riley, and I rubbed my thumb across his fingers, both of us trying to reassure each other. I reached into our bag, briefly having to break the contact between us in order to crack open our drinks, twisting the cap off of my boyfriends and handing it to him before opening my own. His hand found its way onto my leg in the absence of my fingers.

It was a little awkward at first, Riley focused on me and seeming to forget that I'd dragged Carlisle along too as he ranted about work. I drowned him out after a while, the alcohol making my legs heavy by the time I'd drained my first bottle. It stopped my heart from racing and my thoughts from spiraling for the time being. Our host was kind enough to not push food too much, rather just setting the snacks on the coffee table that divided the balcony.

"You know you're all that Garrett talks about at work, right?" Riley started, suddenly focusing all his attention on Carlisle. "He doesn't ever shut up about you."

Carlisle wasn't drunk enough for that conversation; he'd only had a quarter of a bottle at most, making me wonder if he was worried we might end up with a repeat trip to the hospital after what happened last time he drank too much. He just forced a smile, rolling his eyes as his face warmed a little.

"Shush, Ry," I grumbled. I could really do without a conversation about how clingy I was right now. Thankfully, Victoria handed him the bowl of chips to shut him up. It worked for a bit, until his fingers brushed the bottom of the dish and he was left without the distraction.

"Are you two engaged yet?" Apparently alcohol took away all of his social awareness, because the uncomfortable air the question caused went right over his head. He didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "Who's going to propose to who, anyway?"

"Riley," I groaned. As much as I would love to be married to the boy in my arms, it really didn't feel like the right time to be talking about any of this. Besides, Carlisle had never dropped the slightest hint that he might actually want that, other than the odd passing joke, and I wasn't convinced I was ready for that either, as much as I toyed with the idea sometimes.

"What?" he defended loudly, grinning at us. "You obviously love each other enough."

"You and Victoria aren't married, and you've been together longer," I pointed out. It was hard not to get defensive, but luckily he just laughed. She huffed, though, and I hoped I hadn't hit a sore point between them.

"Please, I'll be the one proposing to him," she muttered. "He doesn't have a romantic bone in his body." That was for Riley's benefit, as his laughing fit came to an end.

"I'm the king of romance," he announced, as if he'd just been crowned.

I decided to let them bicker it out. As loving as Riley was, she really had him on that point, and it got his attention off of us for the time being. Carlisle was playing with is phone went I glanced over at him, and I tightened my arm around his waist, kissing his neck. "How's Alistair?" I asked, taking a pretty confident shot in the dark at who he might be texting.

He sighed quietly, sending the message before setting the device in his lap. "Ignoring me. He's not speaking to Edward either, apparently." Looking down at the people on the streets below us, he fell quiet, resting his head on my shoulder.

I hadn't heard that name in a while, and it brought back the same stupid stab of jealousy that it used to. My dumb bain didn't seem to care that the other boy was straight and married, zeroing in on Carlisle's old crush on him instead. Even though we'd been together for over a year and he'd given me no reason to be jealous. Stupid. I took another sip of my beer to stop myself saying something I'd regret later, and followed his gaze. The people down there were obviously party-goers; the men with slicked back hair and the women in short skirts. Their dresses climbed rather high on their thighs as they walked, overdone makeup visible even from our vantage point as they tried to huddle under umbrellas. While we weren't talking, I tried to figure out whether I was still attracted to that, or whether the flush of warmth in my body came from the alcohol.

"Where'd you think they're going?" Carlisle asked softly, his arm coming to rest in my lap. The people watching was obviously a distraction, but not one I could blame him for. Anything to pass the time.

Shaking any thoughts about those girls out of my head, I wrapped my hand around his, clamping my beer bottle between my knees and using my free one to tilt his chin up. I kissed him firmly, ignoring his confusion as I turned back to the street. "To a club, probably," I pointed out the obvious. "Or perhaps to work."

He laughed quietly, trying to stifle his giggles as Riley glanced at us. "So, still to a club then, just maybe to one with less clothes?" he teased. "It's a bit early for strippers, don't you think?"

I pushed his leg lightly, almost making him spill his drink. "You've obviously never been to a strip club."

"Why would I?" he countered.

I rolled my eyes and looked back at the street. "What about that guy over there, what's he doing?" I asked, pointing out the man smoking a cigarette under the eve of another building.

"Well, judging by your assumption before, he must be their pimp." He was baiting me, barely able to get the words out between laughter.

"I never said they were prostitutes," I chuckled. "I'm sure they're respectable young ladies. Besides, I think that guy is just out there hiding from his wife. Or maybe his in-laws. Either seems like a good enough excuse to stand in the rain."

I knew by the grin on his face that we were in trouble when Riley overheard us and turned to my boyfriend. "So, are you _only_ into guys?" His smile grew as Carlisle fidgeted, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Ah, I'm gay, Riley," he reminded him politely. This whole visit must have been like pulling teeth for him, but he was doing well.

"Yeah, but you're not even a little attracted to women?" Frowning, he turned to me, his brow furrowing. "You are, right, Gar?" We'd had that conversation before, unfortunately, and I knew he was just teasing the two of us.

"You've had too much to drink," I accused, starting to laugh at his confusion. "Just shut up before you embarrass yourself." He was getting close to embarrassing _me_ , and I wasn't at all prepared for that tonight.

"No really; I'm curious. You don't think she's hot?" He gestured to one of the girls who was on the street, ignoring his girlfriend's sharp reprimand.

Carlisle leaned closer to me, obviously uncomfortable. He barely peaked at the woman Riley was talking about, quickly averting his gaze back to the pot plants at our feet as his face warmed. "...She's pretty, I guess?" he said awkwardly. His fingers crept under the back of my t-shirt.

Riley was giggling, ignoring Victoria's elbow in his ribs. "Really not your type, then?"

"She's the wrong _gender_ , Riley, so I guess, no. She's not my type at all." He managed a small smile, laughing a little when Riley chuckled. I snuck my hand onto his leg, trying to reassure him as he squirmed. His discomfort and inability to keep his face from flushing sent Riley off into a fit of laughter a few seconds later; he was way, _way_ too drunk for this. Carlisle wrapped his arms around my neck, turning away from him a little to avoid the topic.

Well, at least I didn't have to worry about him leaving me for a woman. I rubbed his shoulder, feeling him relax as my coworker's attention diverted back to his girlfriend. We might not have been there long, but I was more than ready to go home. I just had to hope that Riley got tired from his drinks fairly soon. It looked like it, quite honestly, resting his head on Victoria's shoulder and trying to talk himself out of the trouble he'd just gotten himself in. I barely controlled a chuckle at their low murmuring, relishing the warmth of having Carlisle's body against mine; as long as I had him, I decided that I really didn't care about any overly attractive female.

.

.

It was far too long before we got to go home, and I'd had far too much to drink. Carlisle was a little tipsy too, and I knew we were being too loud as we said goodbye and headed down the hallway. He kissed me as soon as the elevator door closed behind us, pushing me up against the wall, his fingers brushing against my jaw. My shoes slid on the linoleum floor and I slipped a little, causing him to fall against me and setting me off giggling. The laughter was hard to control as the alcohol coursed through my body. "Do you want to get dessert?" I asked, forcing myself to calm down before I fell. We'd already decided to walk for a bit, seeming as the rain had eased and we had both admitted we were hungry.

He nodded, kissing my throat before he stepped back so I could regain my balance. "If we can find somewhere open, sure."

"It's okay if I have to take mine home, though?" Alcohol didn't kill my nerves apparently. My hand found his and I linked our fingers together, pulling him toward the exit as soon as the elevator door binged open. The thought of my parents tomorrow night was already looming over me, no matter how hard I tried to push it away; it was making me more sensitive than usual. I was sure I was going to be a nightmare for Carlisle to deal with by tomorrow.

"You know you don't have to ask that, Gar," he reminded me softly. "I know you're not looking forward to tomorrow; just do whatever makes you comfortable." His fingers tightened around mine, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand.

"I love you." My feet came to a stop on the footpath as I leaned down to kiss his cheek. The lights of a fast food stall washed over the street, the sign writing on the side of building swirling together as I squinted to read it. It slowly came into focus as I hugged him. Pictures of cookies and cake and pancakes covered in syrup decorated the sign, and all of it sounded good to me.

We ended up with a brownie each, the warmth and sugary coating more than welcome. I nibbled on mine as we walked toward home, keeping my free arm around Carlisle to try and maintain my sanity. The cake helped to soak up the alcohol in my stomach, but it didn't help to ease my anxiety about tomorrow.


	75. Chapter 75

**A bit of a shorter chapter this time.**

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This was the weekend from hell, but nothing was a disaster _yet_.

In fact, things were going well despite how nervous I was. Carlisle and I made dinner together, while my parents were bringing dessert - sadly not brownies - and the cold weather had managed to smother his allergies again. Every time I started to fidget, he'd patiently remind me that they were my parents, and that they weren't about to disown me for something that wasn't my fault. It didn't stop me from worrying, but it certainly helped.

Everything went smoothly, from dad purposefully hugging my boyfriend as soon as we let them in, to our lasagna being cooked perfectly. Fox managed to win my parents over instantly with her mewing and purring, and quickly curled up beside them on the couch when we all sat in the longue. Mum had brought photos from Carmen's last ultrasound, proudly showing us the black and white alien imagery that was apparently her unborn grandchild. I really wasn't sure what the hell I was looking at, but Carlisle managed to humour her. It was a bit of an unwelcome topic for me; it sent a pang of longing through my body, which I barely managed to smother.

And then my heart stopped. My ears started to ring and my vision tunneled, everything I'd just eaten rising in my throat. I was vaguely aware of myself asking if they minded staying a few minutes longer to talk about something, and of the confused looks on their faces, but then my throat tightened and nothing else would come out. So dizzy that I wanted to pass out, I barely recognised that Carlisle's arms were around me and I was burying my face in shoulder, and that he was trying to reassure me that it was okay in between explaining to my parents what was happening to me.

"Everyone here loves you, Gar, it's fine," he murmured to me. "Don't make yourself sick over this; everything's alright." His hand snuck under the back of my shirt, and I tried to focus on the coolness of his fingers against my bare skin and the gentle kisses he was pressing against my neck.

Slowly, the panic gave way to exhaustion, and I found myself leaning against him a little more, tightly wrapping my arms around his waist. "...I have to go to bed…" It was the only thing that I could think of that would make sense right then. I didn't want to be with my parents anymore; I suddenly loathed being around anyone but Carlisle.

"Let me get you some water first, before you try and stand up?" he suggested. He kissed my cheek once I nodded, gone from my side all too soon. A hollow feeling formed in his absence, my chest aching from a mixture of backlogged emotion and hyperventilation.

As the room started to come back into focus, I risked a glance at the clock, and then at my parents. Fifteen minutes had passed. And they looked absolutely horrified. I wasn't sure if it was my reaction, what they'd just been told, the intimacy between me and Carlisle, or a mixture of all three, but mum looked like she was about to cry, and dad was stone-faced and silent.

"Here, Garrett." A cold glass touched my fingers. I carefully took a sip of the water as my boyfriend sat beside me again, and it did help to ease the tightness in my throat a little. He carefully brushed my hair back off my face to stop it sticking to me, his fingertips lingering a little against my cheek. "Do you still want to lie down?" When I didn't respond, he turned to my parents again. "He's actually doing a lot better; it doesn't usually get this bad anymore, he was just nervous about telling you," he explained quietly.

Mum was on her feet suddenly, rushing to hug me so tightly that it was a little painful. "Oh, love, you should have told us sooner." She was bordering on tears, and I really couldn't deal with her crying right now - it was going to make me cry.

"I'm okay- I'm okay, mum, I-I just need to lie down, and…" I just needed everyone to leave me alone. I reached for Carlisle's hand, needing some kind of stability. He squeezed my fingers as my mother rambled on and on about how 'I should have said something' for all those years, but I wasn't listening anymore. I just leaned my head against his shoulder and nodded in agreement to her.

It seemed like an eternity before dad finally convinced her to stop fussing, and she left me alone long enough to excuse myself and escape to our bedroom. I knew shouldn't have abandoned Carlisle with them, but I needed to get away or I was going to lose my shit again. Instead, I just sat on the edge of the bed, listening to him reassure them that I would be okay. Dad was thanking him for dealing with me so well, politely trying to usher mum out. The front door opening and closing was the best sound I'd ever heard, and I lay back with a groan.

Carlisle immediately came back to me, slowly sitting on the mattress beside me and squeezing my hand. "Are you okay, Garrett?"

"I can't believe I reacted like that," I groaned, burying my face in his shoulder as he lay down too. "So much for a peaceful dinner." My face was still burning and I badly wanted to stop it. It felt like all the blood in my body must have been there, my cheeks were so hot. I wondered if the heat would burn through his hoodie.

"At least it's done now," he soothed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Your parents understood." His fingers trailed down, smoothing the collar of my shirt and brushing against my shoulder blades. "Should we get ready for bed?"

"It's only early, Carlisle, it's barely even 8 o'clock," I reminded him. I didn't know why I was arguing; I didn't want to get out of bed again. There's no way I would be able to sleep for a while yet; my heart was pounding erratically in my ears, and I felt like I'd vomit if my boyfriend got more than a few feet away from me. Instead of fighting him, I started tugging off my clothing, my hands still trembling enough for the buttons on my shirt to get stuck and pull. The cotton strained and came loose, threatening to send the button flying, but my anxious hands didn't care, suddenly claustrophobic in the clothing.

Carlisle's cold fingers replaced mine, easily weaving them back through the holes. "Careful," he murmured, catching hold of my hands and lacing our fingers together. It prevented me from undressing any further, but eased the sick feeling in my stomach. I leaned forward to kiss him, pulling him forward until he fell into me.

"You're coming to bed too, right?" I had wanted to tease him, but my nerves betrayed me and leaked through in my voice.

"Yes, Garrett." All too soon, he pulled back, quickly getting changed and disappearing to feed the cat. I rushed to do the same, impatiently waiting under the bed covers for him to come back - there was no way I was ready to let him go yet. I lay back in bed, listening to the traffic on the street below us, and the weather raging away. I still couldn't fully settle until his arms were safely around me again, and only then could I relax, letting the noises take over my racing thoughts.

I'd always loved the sound of rain outside, ever since I was a child. It's monotonous drumming was enough to put me to sleep no matter how worked up I was. The pelting on the roof brought back fond memories of childhood blanket forts, gentle hugs and being tucked into bed by my parents. The sound was soft now, seeming as we had another apartment on top of us and were several floors up, but it was still faintly audible from where we were lying. And I still loved it. It sounded of everything safe and comforting while we were surrounded by warmth.

Carlisle was gone from my side suddenly, and I felt the loss as he tiptoed to the window, pushing it open a crack and letting cold air spew into the room. The weather was louder now, the sound of icy rain drops bouncing off the pavement outside overpowering our slow breathing. My gaze traced him as he moved to the hallway cupboard, hurriedly returning with another blanket and throwing it over the bed to compensate for the temperature change in the room. He crawled between the sheets beside me to get away from the gust of freezing air. "Thank you," I whispered to him, almost unwilling to disturb the sound. I pressed a gentle kiss against his temple, running my hand up his back to squeeze his shoulder, my fingers brushing the back of his neck and lightly tangling in his hair.

He didn't say anything in response, offering a half-smile in the darkness and leaning forward to bring his lips to mine, careful as always. His hands were on my waist, his body tight against mine and his fingers knotted in my shirt. The rain made him anxious, reminding him of cold nights alone with no jacket, and the next door neighbour's old dog who would sit with him on the back steps of his father's home every night that he was kicked out. He'd told me that story over and over again, about the geriatric saint bernard who would jump the back fence between the two houses and lie with him on the back porch. Ever since we'd come back from camping, he'd started telling me a little more about his childhood. I wasn't sure if whether he trusted me more, or if he was just homesick. Still, I'd be forever thankful that the dog had stopped him freezing to death.

"What are you thinking about?" I knew he was stuck on London, from his silence and rigidity, and as selfish as it was, I wanted him talking. He wouldn't want to tell me, but I needed him to say something, reliant on him keeping me calm after this evening. "Please?" I pleaded.

"The weather," he said quietly. He shifted slightly, sinking further under the blankets and resting his cheek on my chest. That wasn't the truth. Not the whole truth, anyway. That wasn't what was eating away at him. I didn't push him, just hugged him and squeezed him closer to me. We couldn't both come apart tonight; neither of us had the energy.

.

.

I was quite uncomfortable the next time I woke up. The duvet had shifted and left my foot exposed, and the temperature was unpleasant. In fact, my whole body was too cold. It only took one glance at my boyfriend to find out why. He'd cocooned himself in as many blankets as he could gather, tightly curled up. Cold, despite the stolen covers. There was no way I could be irritable with him, and a chuckle vibrated in my chest as I pulled him closer. I was met with resistance as I tried to tug him free of them - fighting me even though he was asleep.

He shivered as when my hands finally got under the covers. The abrupt disruption of warmth was enough to wake him up, and he sat up, confused. "You okay?" he asked as I continued to grin at him.

"No, I'm going to freeze to death if you carry on like that," I teased. I used his clothes to tug him closer, laughing as he fell against my side. The blankets unfolded on their own as he settled, and his head came to rest on my shoulder as he tucked them around us.

"Sorry, Gar," he mumbled sleepily. It didn't take him long to pass out again, and the warmth of his body against mine was enough to relax me again. I loved that boy so much.

.

.

It was the smell of fresh coffee that pulled me out of bed the next morning. I followed the enticing scent to the kitchen, unable to help a smile as I snuck up behind Carlisle. I wrapped my arms around his waist, kissing the back of his neck. "Good morning, you."

His body shook with quiet laugher. "It's hardly morning, Garrett. Lunch time would be more accurate, actually." Maneuvering around to face me, his fingers brushed my jaw, holding my face in his hands as he leaned up on his toes to bring our lips together.

"You should have woken me up then," I teased. I was secretly glad that he hadn't; I'd wanted to sleep more than anything after all that had happened over the last two days.

"I'm not that cruel," he teased back. Then next time he spoke, his voice was a lot softer, and he pulled me a little closer. "You looked like you really needed it, Gar, I'm glad you were able to rest that long."

"I'm sure spending the morning with you would have had the same effect," I said, rubbing the small of his back. "Have you eaten? Do you want me to make something?"

"I have, but don't cook; yours is in the oven." He awkwardly stretched over my arms to grab a mug off of the bench, handing it to me with a shy smile.

I took it from him, stealing another kiss while he was still close to me. "Have I told you recently that I love you?"

That earned me an eyeroll and a gentle elbow in the ribs as he shifted away to get my food - apparently assuming me incapable of looking after myself. "Are you feeling okay this morning?" he asked quietly, hesitating before bringing it up again. He seemed to realise that I was uncomfortable being the center of his attention while we had this conversation and turned away to start washing the dishes.

The stab of vulnerability the question brought on wasn't welcome, though I appreciated the gesture. That would explain why he was babying me too; he was scared I was going to have another meltdown. "Lots better. I'm sorry about last night."

A sigh escaped as he glanced at me over his shoulder. "I don't want you to be sorry, Gar, I just want you to take it easy; a weekend doesn't count as a break if you were stressed the whole time."

My stomach twinged a little, and I found myself wanting to reach for him again. "I really am okay, Carlisle, I know I overreacted last night, but…" I trailed off, shoving a forkful of breakfast into my mouth to shut myself up.

"You didn't 'overreact', you had a panic attack and that's not your fault," he murmured, still focused on the sink.

I fidgeted, watching the floor as I continued to eat. Fox was pushing her nose at my ankles, demanding my attention and starting to whine. "Has she been fed?" I asked him, attempting to change the subject. Standing in the kitchen was quickly becoming awkward, and I forced myself to go and sit at the table and finish my breakfast instead of hovering uselessly. It was too warm in there anyway; the heat from the over had quickly filled up the small space, and I wasn't sure how Carlisle was still managing to keep his jacket on.

He dried his hands on a teatowel and leaned down to scoop her up. "Yeah, she has a selective memory." The tiny creature remained in his arms as he sat at the table with me, and I found it hard to repress a smile at the sight of the two of them. He waited until I'd shoved my bowl away before speaking again. "What do you want to do today?"

It didn't take much convincing on my behalf to coax him into sitting in my lap, and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly against my chest. I leaned my head against his shoulder, savoring the feeling of his fingers in my hair. He was warm and smelt wonderful, and it was immediately comforting. "Nothing, if I can help it."


	76. Chapter 76

From what I could tell, Carlisle was enjoying his new position at work, as strange as his company had made it. He'd spend hours every night messing around on a company-issued laptop, exploring the new programmes he was expected to learn how to use. It was nice to see him relax a little. The tension seemed to drop from his shoulders in the evenings now, and he didn't run off to bed as soon as he got home. He was still anxious whenever he needed to leave the house, but I thought he was doing better and I was beyond relieved to see him getting back to normal. He was smiling a little more than he had been since everything happened, and I was even happier when Alistair mentioned it too.

Alistair, however, wasn't so happy. He'd called Carlisle in tears and we'd had to bail him out again. When he'd said that he needed to come over, both of us expected the worst. I awkwardly stayed in the kitchen while my boyfriend tried to comfort him, having given up trying not to eavesdrop - the thought of Randal anywhere near Carlisle had me on edge, and my senses were on high alert as soon his name was mentioned. It was only going to end in me snapping at Alistair if I stayed with them.

"Randal and I broke up," he mumbled into Carlisle's shoulder. His arms found their way around him, and he pulled him closer. "For good this time. I can't take anymore from him."

My boyfriend couldn't quite tame a relieved smile, ducking his head to avoid his friend seeing it. "Thank god, Al."

"And I'm moving back to my mother's place until everything settles down," he continued softly.

The room was awkwardly silent for a minute. "She's lives south, right?" he asked slowly.

Alistair nodded, tightening his grip on him. His fingers dug into his clothing to hold him there. "Yeah- I don't know what else to do, Carlisle, everything is turning to shit, and I feel like I need to move back home until I get a grip. I'm so lost now." His voice shook and he groaned, trying to suppress it.

Although his friend was stifling tears, Carlisle managed to hold it together fairly well, slowly rubbing his hand up and down his back. "Do you need help packing? Can I help you?" he asked instead. "We can go with you to get your stuff, if it would make you feel safer." Somehow, he kept from sounding too pleased about their break up, though I was sure he was over the moon about it. Maybe not so much about Al moving away.

That was it for Alistair. He shook his head, his breath catching in his throat. "I don't think you should be anywhere near him, Carlisle, he hates you. I just wanted to see you before I did anything."

Eventually, I got sick of uncomfortably hovering, making myself a cup of coffee and going to our bedroom. It provided a safe little capsule from the drama currently taking place in the living room. I quietly shut the door, muffling their voices and sitting back on the bed. All the emotion was putting me on edge after our last weekend, and it was making my stomach churn.

Folding my legs under myself and leaning back against the headboard, I gave myself the liberty to turn on my laptop and start a movie, keeping the sound low to so that I could throw myself back into the kitchen the moment I heard Randal's voice. He never showed, thank god. It was another couple of hours before Alistair decided that he was going to stay with one of his coworkers until he could move, so that he could get a ride to work in the morning and seeming as they had a spare room they were willing to lend him. He left, and the house was suddenly silent.

Suspecting the worst, I dragged myself back out of our room to find my boyfriend. He was sitting at the table, tracing the grain of the wood with his finger tip and not seeming to notice my entrance. "You okay, Carlisle?" I asked carefully, resting my shoulder against the doorframe as I watched him. I was a little worried that the question might provoke a meltdown, but he seemed calm enough.

It took him a moment to respond. "Yeah, I'm okay," he mumbled. Losing Alistair was going to be a hard blow, whether he wanted to admit it or not; he was as close to family as Carlisle was going to get.

"You don't look okay." I went over to him, slowly wrapping my arms around him from behind and pressing a kiss against his neck as I pulled him back into my chest.

"I am. I'm just surprised, I guess. It'll be good for Al to be back in his hometown after that." His fingers trailed up my forearm and he tilted his head back to look up at me. "Are you up to coming to the grocery store with me?" The question had more anxiety behind it than I would have liked, but it wasn't unexpected. We were supposed to take it in turns doing our weekly food shopping, but I usually ended up going with Carlisle anyway because it made him so nervous. He might have been doing a lot better overall, but he still didn't cope with 'people' all that well, and a crowded supermarket often turned into his nightmare.

"Yeah, I'll come." It would have been easier for both of us if I just did it on my own, but I was reluctant; I didn't want him to lose the ability to go out in public because it made him so nervous, and I was sure that him staying home was a step in that direction. That didn't make me want to go to the store, though.

I googled a couple of new recipes before we left. It had been far too long since I'd tried anything different in the kitchen, and I didn't want to lose the skill due to my own laziness. I didn't want my hate of eating out to ruin dining in for me as well; it would do us good to have a break from eating the _same three meals_ over and over again like we usually did. Carlisle had admitted to not caring all that much what we had, so long as it was at least semi okay for our health, but he wasn't the one of us that got excited over food. I knew he also didn't care about what we actually bought from the store either; he just wanted it over as quickly as possible.

He was holding my hand as we wandered from aisle to aisle, his silence in stark contrast to the chatter around us. He did eventually leave my side to grab some milk from the other end of the store, but looked particularly unnerved by the time he got back. The milk bottle went in the cart without a word. "What are we making for dinner?" he asked softly, confused by the seemingly random ingredients that I'd put in there while he was away.

I told him and he just looked confused. "You'll like it, Carlisle, I promise," I chuckled, nudging him with my shoulder when he smiled a little. "I'm not going to torture you; it's only chicken." I was fairly certain it would be okay with him, anyway.

"I trust your cooking, this is just a lot of food for two people," he teased.

"It boils down, don't worry." I pressed a kiss against his temple, pleased that he was joking with me instead of freaking out. The store wasn't overly crowded today too, but I could see that he was still on edge, fidgeting nervously beside me. "We're almost done," I assured him, lowing my voice.

He blew out a sigh as he nodded. "I'm okay. Are you?"

I wasn't really sure what had made him ask. "So long as we don't have to eat in the middle of the store, yeah, I'm fine." I guided him through the last of the aisles, stealing glances at him the entire time. He was a little withdrawn when I prompted him to choose a couple of snacks, but still seemed okay by my judgement. He was finally getting an interest in food again, after months, and I wasn't about to ruin that by pushing him too hard.

The young woman at the register was unbearably slow. A huge badge hung on her shirt, reading 'TRAINING' in big lettering, and I found myself swallowing my annoyance. Everyone needed to learn somewhere, I guess. Carlisle seemed to take pity on her, idly chatting to her as she scanned our items and meeting each one of her apologies with reassurance, despite it winding him up too. I ended up standing by the end of the counter and packing everything into bags as her desktop quickly became too cluttered with groceries and she started to flounder. "You're doing fine," I assured her as our eyes met, forcing myself to smile. Her face flushed and she stuttered out our total, rather flustered as we paid. Poor kid. Retail jobs sucked.

Carlisle took my hand as we walked out into the carpark, the tension starting to leave his shoulders once he realised it was over for another few days. The sky was starting to cloud over, threatening rain, but we managed to get everything in the car before it started. "Feeling okay?" I asked him. I slipped my hand onto his knee as I started the car.

"Yeah, I'm alright," he mumbled back. Not really okay, then. "Sorry you had to come."

I squeezed his leg. "It's okay; I know it makes you nervous."

He reached down to rub my fingers, forcing a small smile. "I'm still sorry. I know you don't feel good about being there either, and the last week has been kind of rough-"

"Stop it, Carlisle," I interrupted. "I'm fine with the grocery store so long as we're not picnicking there. It's alright."

He sighed and dropped the subject, obviously not feeling better about it.

.

.

"Where is Alistair from?" I'd waited until we'd settled after dinner before bringing it up, not wanting to upset him and put him off eating for the night.

The question made him shift, resting his head on my shoulder and hugging my arm as it brushed his chest. He'd been pretty quiet since we'd come home, and I was fairly confident that was what he was worrying about. "His mother lives in Georgia."

"And his dad?" I leaned my head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling and absent mindedly rubbing his thigh. Carlisle might have been wound up, but I could have easily fallen asleep; I'd already showered, and being warm and full quickly made me tired.

"They stopped talking after Al told him he was gay. His parents got divorced a while ago; they're more conservative, and his father couldn't handle it while his mother refused to cut her son out. Alistair moved up here to get away from all of it, originally," he told me quietly.

"You two are similar," I murmured.

"You mean we both run away from our problems?" He laughed without humour, groaning and letting go of my arm to hug my waist.

I shook my head but didn't push it. "I mean, you should have been treated better."

"It's just Al that needs better; I just need to get a grip."

" _You_ need to not be so hard on yourself," I corrected, looking over at him and lowering my voice the next time I spoke. "You're doing better than you were; just give it some time, Carlisle. Are you feeling alright about Alistair moving?" Asking bluntly was cruel, but I couldn't find a gentle way to bring it up, and I didn't want him stewing over it; we'd lived together long enough for me to know that he wouldn't bring it up without me prompting him too.

"I'm not selfish enough to want him to stay, but I'll miss him," he said slowly. "I don't like that he's leaving, but I'm glad that he'll be safe. It isn't like we'll never see each other again."

"You'll tell me if you're not okay, right?" I pressed carefully. I still didn't know how much he actually told Alistair about anything that was happening, and it worried me that he was going to lose that support so suddenly.

"Yes, Garrett," he promised. "Come to bed; you'll be tired at work tomorrow otherwise. I'm sure Riley won't want to deal with you sleep deprived." His teasing brought a smile to my face and I took his hand as he got up, letting him haul me to my feet.

"You just don't want to deal with me when I'm grumpy tomorrow morning," I laughed.

.

.

Tomorrow morning came all too soon. The weather had cleared, and the sun was burning into my retinas through the curtain before I'd even opened my eyes. I could already hear Carlisle in the kitchen, making coffee and listening to the news through the TV. He was right; I was exhausted despite us going to bed early, and already a little irritated even though I hadn't so much as sat up. It was obviously going to be one of those days.

By the time I'd gotten out of the shower, he was already leaving, briefly kissing me goodbye in the bathroom doorway. "There's breakfast on the bench, but it'll be cold if you leave it too much longer," he warned.

I forced him into a hug before he could pull away, holding him there a few seconds. "Thanks. See you after work."

"You really are about to be late if you don't hurry," he murmured, slowing his flurry of activity enough to wrap his arms around me as well. "I was just about to wake you up."

Groaning, I looked over at the time and let him go, knowing that he wanted to leave. I already wouldn't have time to eat if I wanted to get into the office without being yelled at. In the kitchen, I packed the food into a container, trying to pretend that I didn't feel sick at the thought of having it later. I sure as hell wouldn't be able to eat it at my desk around everyone else, but I kidded myself that it might be easier if I went to a coffee shop or something.

.

.

I'd been a little queasy all morning, but my stomach really started churning when I was having lunch with Riley. The few mouthfuls of what was supposed to be breakfast I'd gotten were threatening to make a swift reappearance. I was suddenly sweating and my mouth welled with spit, forcing me to swallow hard to force back the nausea. Stupidly, I didn't feel that anxious, but I guessed trying to eat in public without Carlisle _was_ a bit of a dumb idea considering how the other weekend had gone; I'd already proved myself incapable.

"Are you okay?" Riley asked after I'd been sitting there in silence for a few minutes. He'd been pleased at the prospect of getting out of the office building for a while and jumped at the offer of decent coffee, but now he looked like he was regretting agreeing to come out with me.

I was starting to panic, struggling to come to terms with quickly losing the fight with my body. "I think I'm going to puke," I told him, quickly getting up. In my hurry, I couldn't decide whether the bathrooms or the front door was closer, but I really didn't want to be sick in public.

"What?" He was chuckling a little, more out of confusion than anything else. His smile started to fade as he saw that I was starting to freak out. "Garrett, just calm down; you're alright."

"No, I'm not," I told him, my stomach lurching. Saliva welled in my mouth and I bolted towards the toilets, managing to get the door locked just in the nick of time. Throwing up made me very aware of a pain in my stomach, and sitting on the filthy floor of some cafe's restroom had me really, really homesick. I was such a fucking baby when I was ill.

There was a knock on the door, followed by Riley's voice. "Are you alright?" He sounded worried, trying the door handle a couple of times, but it wasn't him that I wanted. He knew it too. "Should I call Carlisle?"

I took a few deep breaths before I answered him, trying to clear the spinning feeling in my head. It helped a bit and I felt like I might be able to stand again. "No, don't tell him, I'm okay," I got out eventually. The nausea had died down a little now that I didn't have anything in my stomach. Needing to get the taste of acid out of my mouth, I slowly got to my feet and rinsed my mouth out under the tap. Gross.

"Garrett?" Riley called again. Concern was all over his face when I finally opened the door to face him, and he was clutching his phone in his hand, hopefully not calling my boyfriend.

"I'm alright," I repeated. "I think I just got too nervous." Now, I just wanted to go back to the office; I didn't really feel sick anymore, and assumed it was over. "I'm going back to work."

His face fell and his eyebrows knitted together. "Are you sure? Don't you want to go home?" His hand closed around my wrist, holding me in place until I answered him.

"Yeah, I'm alright now." The walk back to the office would do me good; I was sweating still, and the air was still coolish outside. Hopefully it would get rid of the horrible sticky feeling. I paid for my drink while Riley continued to fuss, impatiently waiting for him when he insisted on walking back with me.

.

.

It wasn't over. I'd been at my desk only a couple of minutes went my stomach started churning again, sending me running back to the bathroom. One of my coworkers muttered a curse as I shoved past him but I didn't care right then, just needing to get away. This time, vomiting didn't help me feel any better. The nausea didn't get better at all and my hair was sticking to my face, and I knew I was going to have to go home. This really didn't feel like an anxiety attack anymore. I reluctantly tried to tidy myself up, and slowly made my way to my boss's office.

He took one look at me and told me to get out, ignoring my mumbled apology and telling me he wasn't surprised that I was going to be absent from work _again._ I just stumbled from his office, wanting to curl up on the couch for the day now. Forcing down a few mouthfuls of cold water before I left, I made my way through the building and out into the carpark.

The queasiness didn't ease when I sat in the driver's seat. I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel for a few seconds, trying to swallow away the cotton-wool feeling in my mouth and forcing myself to breathe. I _really_ didn't feel good now; sweat was soaking my shirt, and I used the back of my hand to try and push my hair away from my forehead. "Fuck," I sighed through my teeth, starting my car. I just wanted to get home.

I'd just pulled into our driveway when my stomach rolled and I was hit with the sudden, borderline uncontrollable urge to go to the bathroom. Groaning and rushing up to our apartment, I dealt with that and crawled into bed, planning on not moving until I felt a bit more stable. I hadn't had a stomach bug since I was a little kid, but I could only guess that this was what it was. Great.

Within an hour, I was getting horrible stomach cramps, staying firmly in the blankets and resisting movement. I had half a mind to call Carlisle home, and had it not been important for him to stay at his course I would have. Instead, I just text and asked if he could pick up some medicine on the way home - we sure as hell didn't have anything for this.

He got home just before seven, the front door closing softly. It took a few minutes for him to come to me, but he came in with a glass of water and the pills eventually. "You okay, Gar?" His fingers were cold are he pressed his hand against my forehead, and the bed dipped slightly under his weight as he sat next to me.

"I think I've a stomach virus," I admitted, forcing myself to sit up to face him. Immediately I knew something was wrong; he looked like he'd been dragged through hell and back, dishevelled and pale. "You've got it too, huh? Come here."

He nodded, kicking off his shoes before collapsing into bed beside me. Just as shivery and sore as I was, he curled up, immediately half asleep. "You weren't well when you woke up this morning, huh?"

"I guess not. Why didn't you come home sooner if you're sick, Carlisle? Jesus, you must be exhausted," I scolded, shuffling closer to him. Theoretically, if we had both come down with the same thing, there was no reason why we couldn't be close to each other, and I badly wanted him in my arms.

"I didn't want to fall behind in class; I suck enough as it is. I didn't get sick until after lunch anyway." He didn't move, folding one arm back over his face to block the light out. "I have to get changed," he mumbled when I started to wrap my arms around him, warning me not to get too comfortable. It didn't deter me; something about feeling awful turned me into a needy asshole.

"Are you going to shower?" I frowned. The idea seemed insane to me if he felt as gross as I did; it was far too much effort.

He shook his head. "I don't want to get up again, but I'm freezing."

"Take your jeans off and come here, then."' I unbuttoned them for him, tugging the zip of his jacket down a bit. "You'll be warm enough once you're in bed." My limbs felt like led as I helped him undress, but it was only fair after he'd gone out of his way to go to the pharmacy while he was ill too.

"Do you want anything to eat?" he asked me, clumsily getting out of his clothing and letting me wrap him in the blankets with me. The warmth of his body next to mine was immediately comforting, and I cuddled into him, locking my arms around his chest.

"I'm not going to be able to keep it down," I admitted. Either that, or I would shit myself. He winced, his hands covering mine and trying to protect his stomach. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He kissed my neck, shifted a little closer. "I'm okay now that I'm lying down. You're not in pain?"

"Nothing unbearable." Sleep sounded more than good to me. It was easier to relax now I had him with me, even if he was feeling crappy too.

.

.

Carlisle had been sick all night, accidently waking me up every time he jumped out of bed, and we were both exhausted by morning. Apart from being tired, I felt a bit better, less like I wanted to throw up, and my stomach wasn't chewing itself inside out. I dragged myself to the bathroom to try and clean myself up a bit, but one look in the mirror proved it wasn't going to do much good. Washing my face didn't get rid of the dark circles under my eyes or get any of the colour back in my skin, but I felt a little better after brushing my teeth.

My boyfriend still wasn't looking well either. In a similar state to I was, he winced when I got back into bed, immediately shuffling closer to me in search of heat. Just from standing in the bathroom, I'd started to shiver again, and having him against me while he was running a fever was unfortunately appealing. Moving hadn't been a good idea; it had brought back the aches and pains, and I buried my face in his shoulder.

He felt too hot, even though I was sure I had a temperature as well, and I was trying hard not to like it. "You're warm," he mumbled to me, wincing as I slipped my arms around him.

"I won't squeeze you, don't worry," I promised, not wanting to let him go. "And so are you."

"You okay, Gar?" he asked softly, twisting in my arms to roll over and face me. "Are you feeling any better?" He leaned into me, resting his forehead against my collarbone.

I slipped my hand under the back of his t-shirt, rubbing the small of his back. "I'll live; I don't feel quite as crappy as last night. Are _you_ alright?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. Tired though."

"Did you sleep at all?" I frowned. Sinking back into the pillows, I breathed a sigh of relief. Sooner or later I was going to have to get up for water, but staying in bed sounded perfect for now. Going to sleep would put us both out of our misery for a while.

"A little bit. Sorry I kept you up so long."

"It was hardly by choice, Carlisle." I didn't care, so long as we could both get some rest now.

He groaned and pulled away to sit up. Instead of rushing away to be sick like I thought he was going to, he wandered off into the kitchen, returning a little while later with a couple of water bottles. "Do you think you can drink? You'll be worse if you get dehydrated."

I propped myself up on an elbow to take one from him. "Alright, nurse."

.

.

Despite the beautiful weather outside, the best either of us could manage for the whole day was to order pizza for dinner and curl up on the couch. We both knew that greasy takeaways weren't the best thing to be eating after getting sick, but it was easy and delivered and neither of us had the energy to cook. My mouth was so dry that the food tasted like cardboard. I was just pleased that I could keep it down.

I had a hard drive full of disney movies on my computer that I usually reserved for Kate's entertainment. Today though, it was all we could watch - we both kept falling asleep, and really couldn't follow any complicated film. The couch was too narrow for us to lie beside each other, but Carlisle was more on me than next to me, his cheek against my collarbone and one of his legs between mine. I had my arm around his shoulders, holding him in place. The weight of his ribs against mine was comforting and I didn't want him to move ever again, struggling to stay awake enough to follow the plot of some movie with a talking dog as the lead character - dumb, but oddly charming.

"Does your stomach still hurt?" Carlisle mumbled eventually. He wasn't watching the computer, and I'd assumed he was asleep until he'd spoken. "I'm really not feeling good."

"No, are you feeling sick again?" Apart from being so tired I never wanted to move again, I was okay now.

"Hmm...after eating…"

"Perhaps we should have had something a bit lighter for dinner." I squeezed him a little tighter, letting my eyes fall closed as he relaxed into me. All too soon, he was up again. Although I felt better, I knew I'd vomit if I had to watch him be sick, staying in the lounge instead. It was a few minutes before he came back to me, smelling of mint toothpaste and far too pale. "Come here." I pulled him toward me, hugging him and struggling not to fall asleep as he leaned into me.

"This sucks," he groaned.

"You're really not wrong about that," I agreed.


	77. Chapter 77

**I'll be back to fix my mistakes as usual, but I've gotten any major errors out as far as I know. Happy reading!**

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We both had to take the following day off of work, too exhausted and dehydrated to want to do anything. Neither of us got out of bed until after lunch, and even then we only really made it to the couch for the rest of the day. I was quite content to lie in the lounge all afternoon, grateful for the bit of sun that flooded in the windows and warmed the apartment. My boss really hadn't been pleased with me for taking _more_ time off, though.

I tried to ignore the feeling of impending doom I got when I thought about that and focused on what Carlisle was doing. He was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, his back against the base of it as he worked on his laptop. Despite still being in training, he was slowly chipping away at his first paid project. I touched his shoulder, making him jump as he looked up at me. "It looks good," I told him. I leaned down to kiss him, but he was already frowning.

"It looks like shit. I don't know what I'm doing." He allowed the kiss anyway, reaching up to pull me closer to him.

"It's the first thing you've tried to do," I reminded him. I still wasn't really sure what exactly his new job was, but he was definitely more settled. And it was definitely a blessing that he could do it from home when he needed to. At least one of us wasn't in trouble.

.

.

"I need that report tonight, Parker."

My boss hadn't even said good morning to me before making his demand. He unceremoniously dumped a folder onto my desk, and I repressed a groan; I still wasn't feeling a 100% after getting sick, and being landed with tasks above my pay grade really wasn't something I was in favour of. I didn't have the university degree needed to actually collate the research or write the damn thing myself, but that didn't stop anyone landing me with the goddamn proofing. Doing it for Riley when he needed a hand was fine, seeming as he was my friend and he paid me in caffeine, but the rest of them had no right to expect that I do it for them. It didn't stop anyone though. Ass holes.

I knew I wasn't supposed to, but I kept my phone in my pocket instead of shutting it my locker. It was Carlisle's first day back after getting sick as well, and I really wanted to keep a line of contact in case he needed me, though he'd spent all morning telling me he was fine. It was going to be me that needed him judging by how hard my heart was pounding.

I slowly chipped away at the mound of paperwork he'd given me all day, quickly coming to the conclusion that there was no way I was going to be able to finish all of this before I went home. Seeming as I wouldn't be able to eat anyway, I skipped out on lunch and stayed at my desk - anything to be able to get away at 5 o'clock without being yelled at.

It really wasn't to be. By the time the sun started to sink and everyone started to pack their things for the evening, I was barely half way through. My head was throbbing, a sure sign I'd forgotten to drink all day, and I couldn't wait to just go home and take some painkillers. Everything would have to wait until tomorrow. I'd just stood up, slinging my bag onto my back, when Phil appeared at the edge of my desk.

"I take it you're finished, Garrett?" he asked sharply, pointedly looking at the scattered pages across my table top.

I barely held back something snarky. "It's 300 pages, Sir, you can't expect me to-"

"It's _297_ pages, and I _expect_ you to do as you're told," he snapped back. "You're not leaving here until that folder is completed and back on my desk. I told you I needed it tonight."

"It's too much," I argued, biting down on the inside of my cheek to try and control my anger.

"You sit back down, or you can kiss your job goodbye. You don't leave until it's done."

"It's going to take me all night!" Panicking a little, I was embarrassingly fighting the urge to cry. People were staring, I was pissed, and my boss wasn't backing down. "You can't do that!"

"Mr Parker, if you walk out that door, I'll be mailing you a formal warning." There was _way_ too much glee in his tone, and I was fuming. I just wanted to go home to my boyfriend and have something to eat.

"I know I've had a lot of time off recently, but-"

He cut me off before I could finish. "This isn't about that. This is about your inability to do you're job."

I waited until he'd gotten out of my face before sitting back down again. I dropped my bag on the floor, listening until the elevator dinged and the chatter of my coworkers faded before I hesitantly explained to Carlisle that I'd be late. Texting him was kind of rude on my behalf, but I knew I'd lose it if I called him.

.

.

The frustration of not being able to work faster was killing me. I was so tired and hungry that I couldn't think straight, and the office was freezing cold now that the heating was switched off. The only light still on in the entire floor hung above my desk, and shadows and curtainless windows were starting to give me the creeps. Just as I was wondering if he would fire me for running out to my car to grab my jacket, the sound of the elevator rising in it's tracks started to become closer. No doubt, my boss had come back to make sure I hadn't run yet. I banged my head against my desk, and it did nothing for my headache.

The doors opened behind me but I pretended not to hear, turning another page as I traced their footsteps approaching me. Their shoes didn't sound as hard-soled and harsh as Phil's usually did. Maybe this was how I died. All my axe-murderer nightmares flashed before my eyes, and I could already see my intestines decorating the office when everyone got in tomorrow, just because I had to stay late. At least I couldn't be landed with the clean up fee, I guess. The hair on the back of my neck was raised and my pulse pounded in my ears, and they were only a few feet away and-

"Gar, are you doing okay?" A warm hand landed on my shoulder. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"You scared the crap out of me. Who let you in here?" I spun my chair around to face him, closing my arms around him and pulling him into my lap. "God, Carlisle."

"The security guard didn't care. Are you okay? What's going on?"

Burying my face in his neck, I pressed kisses against his throat, relishing the warmth of his body against mine. "My boss is trying to drown me in words," I groaned. "He wants me to edit this stupid report before I go home, and…"

He set a bag on the desk in front of me, twisting to tear it open. "I brought you dinner. Do you think that you can eat here if it's just the two of us? You won't have eaten all day?"

"No, I haven't," I admitted slowly. "I love you; you're amazing."

"And you're freezing. Where's your jacket, Gar?" He was starting to sound like my mother, though his tone was more soft than accusatory, and his hands were gentle as they rubbed the tops of my arms.

"It's in my car, I forgot to bring it up with me, and then he wouldn't let me out of here." Locking my arms around his chest, I smiled as he leaned back against me.

"I'll go get it then." He started to push up and away from me, but I held him tighter, not letting him free. His quiet laugh echoed around the otherwise silent office, the happy sound out of place in the oppressive environment.

"No, don't, just stay; I don't need it. I'll be okay once I've eaten something." I kissed him again, my mood lifting as it provoked more laughter. "Thank you, Carlisle. For coming."

"I'm selfish, really, I just didn't want to be at home without you." He pulled the lid off of a cup of soup, releasing the steam and setting a spoon in my hand. "And maybe I was a little worried." The last bit was a lot quieter, careful.

"You couldn't be selfish if you tried." Grinning, I obediently let him feed me a spoonful of it. "You are distracting me though; I have to be able to finish."

"Give me half of what's left." He started splitting the pile of pages in front of us before I could stop him. "You're proofing, right? Just the grammar and referencing?"

"Yeah, but I can't let you do that, Carlisle; you don't work here, and you're not getting paid," I argued. I loathed the task enough, and I was receiving money for doing it; it was ridiculous for him to be _offering_ to do it.

He paused, hesitating. "Do you think it will get you in trouble?" His face fell as he frowned.

"No, I don't think he cares who does it, but _I_ care." Even though I started to reach for the papers that he'd stolen, but he slid them further out of my reach, shaking his head as his lips pressed into a thin line. The ticking of the clock was the only sound in the room as we looked at each other, me sighing and looking away when he wouldn't. "It's not fair."

"Well, I can't have you sitting here until 4AM when you have to work tomorrow. If we do half each, then we'll be out of here in a couple of hours," he pointed out. We'd lived together long enough for me to know when he wasn't about to be reasoned with. The thought of returning here in the morning already made my heart beat a little out of rhythm.

I couldn't see much point in fighting him; he was obviously determined, and I couldn't stomach the thought of being stuck here all night. Theoretically, if I didn't need a university degree, neither did he. _And_ he was a faster reader than me.

Still, he put his hand on top of my stack as I started to pick up my pen, stopping me. "Please have something to eat first, Garrett," he asked softly. "I'll start, but you get something in your stomach before you make yourself unwell. No work for you until after dinner." He kissed my jaw and slowly lifted himself off me, dropping into the chair at the desk across from me.

Carlisle was never demanding with me, but I didn't feel like I had much of a choice in the matter - and it didn't bother me like I thought it would. I kind of liked it while I was feeling so shitty about everything; I needed it right now. I watched him while he began sorting through the pages, highlighter in hand while he held the lid between his teeth. "I need you," I whispered. It wasn't supposed to have come out. I didn't _want_ it to come out. Immediately my face got hot, and I hoped to god he wouldn't turn around and look at me.

He did though. My words made him frown and he glanced over his shoulder at me, setting the lid on the desk. "Are you sure you're okay? That nothing else happened today?"

"Yeah I'm sure. I just...I feel like he wants to embarrass me in front of everyone, and it feels like highschool, and highschool wasn't great for me, and…"

"And I'm not going anywhere, Garrett. Whatever he does to you, it's not going to affect how I see you. I love you." He reached back, squeezing my leg.

I covered his hand with mine, forcing a smile. "I love you too."

.

.

We didn't get out until after 11PM. Carlisle finished his half of the document long before I finished mine - reading so many books really did pay off apparently - and promptly stole the pages from in front of me to get that done too. As much as I hated myself for letting it happen, I couldn't think past the pounding in my head and I wasn't making any progress.

I drove us home, picking up a tub of icecream on the way and falling into bed just before midnight. "Thank you for all this, Carlisle." I wrapped my arms around him under the sheets, brushing my fingers through his hair as he leaned his head against my chest.

He caught my hand, kissing the back of it. "I don't want you to be hurt, Garrett, you've protected me for too long to go through anything similar. I can't let him hurt you." Lacing our fingers together, he squeezed gently.

I sank back into the blankets, finally letting myself relax. The sick feeling in my stomach was finally easing, and despite how awful I had been feeling all afternoon, sleep was actually seeming possible. . Thank god. Tomorrow was another day, and I could start again.

.

.

It was happening again. It was only three days since the last time it had fucking happened. It was almost lunch time, and I'd barely gotten through 30 pages, and I hadn't even touched anything other than the stupid document my boss had emailed me. And I was panicking. My phone vibrated in my pocket and my heart fluttered a little in my chest, before I realised that he couldn't get at me that way and it was just a text. He wasn't going to send me a message when he could yell at me from his office 20 feet away.

Carlisle's name on my phone screen sent a wave of relief through me. _'How's everything going?'_

Fighting back a wave of emotion, I swallowed the lump in my throat. ' _I can't do this.'_

' _Call me when you're at lunch.'_

I didn't wait for lunch. I abandoned my computer and stalked into the stairwell, dialing him immediately.

"What happened, Gar?" he asked me as he answered. "You okay?"

"I'm never going to finish; I'm going to have to stay late again, and he's fucking with my head. He emailed another file, and I can't get through it before five," I whined at him, already wanting to curl up in bed. "I have too much of my own shit to do to be worrying about his as well. It's going to be the same as Monday, and I can't do this again..."

"He emailed it to you? Send it to me; I can do it."

"You've got your own work, Carlisle, I don't want _you_ to fall behind too." My throat was getting tight, the lump making it difficult to talk without my voice breaking.

"I can do it at home tonight or this weekend or something; you can keep my company - it's a fair trade." His voice was light, but I knew him well enough to be able to hear the worry behind it.

"No, it isn't." I was fighting tears. "He's going to yell at me again."

"He won't, he's not going to yell at you, Gar; send it to me and we can sort it out together." Even over the phone, he was comforting. I wanted him in my arms so fucking bad.

"Carlisle," I groaned again.

"I can do it," he insisted. "Please, I know you're upset and I just want to help you. Please, Garrett."

Footsteps outside the door sent a wave of panic through me and completely broke my resolve. "Okay," I agreed softly. "I'll send it, but I have to go; thank you so much." Quickly shoving my phone into my pocket, I crept back to my desk, cueing up my email account to send him the file. I was so nervous that I wanted to puke; my boss would kill me if he found out I was doing this.

For the rest of the day, I trudged through the rest of my tasks, periodically getting updates from my boyfriend about how far through he'd gotten. At 4:30, his name popped up on my computer screen, another email starting to download. My fucking lifesaver.

.

.

We both got home around the same time, though he was a little more disheveled than I would have liked. He immediately sat himself at the table, starting up his laptop as I pulled ingredients out to make us something to eat. I held back my apology while I cooked, knowing he didn't want to hear it and not wanting to disturb him.

As the smell of our meal filled the kitchen, I watched him intently focus on the screen, his full attention absorbed in it. Even though it was my fault in the first place that he was so busy, I was still fragile enough to need his validation, not coping too well while he was somewhat ignoring me.

Our conversation over dinner was a little strained. My boyfriend was preoccupied and distracted, and I was embarrassed and guilty, and we didn't really know what to say to each other. He went straight back to work once we were done eating, and I forced myself to shower to occupy myself until he was done.

He was still planted at the table a few hours later, resting his head against his hand and his elbow against the table top. "Is everything okay, Gar?" he asked as I hovered uselessly.

"Carlisle, I really feel terrible about this." I rubbed his shoulder as I stood behind him, pressing a kiss against his forehead when he glanced up at me.

He was already sleepy, having downed a coffee only half an hour before to try and keep himself awake long enough to finish his project. "You made dinner and cleaned up, it's fine," he murmured.

"That doesn't make us even," I grumbled.

"But I love you; that makes us even." He smiled as he looked up, and I suddenly caught a glimpse of the same sweet boy I fell in love with before he'd been hurt.

"No it doesn't, I-"

"Garrett, you stuck up for me for months when I was having problems with my boss; I can proof a couple of reports for you." His fingers brushed my wrist as he linked our hands together, kissing the back of my palm.

I fell into the chair next to him with a sigh, frustrated and angry at myself. "I let him beat the shit out of you and sexually assault you." My voice raised without me meaning it to and I raked my fingers through my hair, fighting ripping it out.

He kept hold of me, refusing to let me free. " _You_ stayed home with me when I felt terrible and was having panic attacks. You didn't let anything happen to me; you protected me the best you could."

"Carlisle," I groaned.

"Go to bed, Gar. I'll be in soon."

"I can't leave you out here by yourself," I argued.

"I can sleep in tomorrow if I have to, you can't. Go to bed." Releasing my hand, he patted my arm.

"I'm not leaving you; I won't be able to sleep anyway."

"Fine." He shut the computer down without hesitation. "Let's go to bed then."

"But-"

"I can do it in the morning, let's go." Catching hold of my shirt, he pulled me toward the hallway. "I have to have a shower; get yourself in bed and I'll be there soon, okay?" He shoved me so hard that I fell back onto the mattress, both of us giggling as I tripped.

"Are you sure you have to?" I kept my fingers locked around his wrist, forcing him to lean over me.

"I love you, but I'm not getting up early enough to shower _and_ finish my project. It'll only take a few minutes, and I'll be right back." Ripping his hand out of mine, he held my face in his hands, kissing me quickly. "Ten minutes."

Ten minutes.


	78. Chapter 78

The smell of breakfast cooking pulled me out of sleep the next morning. The space in bed next to me was empty when I stretched my fingers out in search of Carlisle, but he'd left the curtains closed for me, the heater across the room humming quietly as it pumped out warm air. I didn't want to know what time it was; I was going to have to get up too soon no matter whether I knew or not, so I just stayed under the covers. The sound of my boyfriend moving about the apartment disturbed me a little though - I _really_ should get up.

"It's only 7, you don't need to get out of bed just yet," he told me as he wandered into the room, watching me sit up. I held my hand out to him and he wrapped his fingers around mine, sitting next to me. "Do you want something to eat? I don't want you to feel awful like yesterday if you get stuck again."

I nodded, propping myself up on my elbows to look at him. Somehow, he was already dressed, tidy and ready for work. "Did you get everything finished?" I asked softly, running my hand up his arm.

"Yeah, I'm done. I got up at 5, but it didn't take that long." He was rubbing my fingers, trying to soothe me before I worked myself up. "Do you want breakfast in bed?"

"I want you in bed," I teased. He fell forward as I pulled him, collapsing into me and not providing any resistance past laughter as I squeezed him. "But I'll have breakfast with _you_ , yeah."

"You slept in; I've already eaten," he teased. The quick kiss he gave me left me desperately wanting more, but he was already halfway across the room. "It's ready when you are, though."

"You just said I didn't have to get up yet," I laughed. I dragged myself upright, stumbling around the room to find something to wear before wandering into the kitchen. There was no way I was showering this morning. No way in hell. "Why'd you get up so early, if you finished so soon?" The chair creaked as I dropped into it, my eyes trained on Carlisle's back as he dried the dishes. "And I could have done that if you'd waited until…"

He set a plate in front of me. "I don't want you to do them, Gar, I want you to have something to eat so that you don't feel horrible all day. And I stayed out of bed so you'd actually get something decent in you - I didn't want you to have to cook."

I couldn't force back a smile. "Remind me where I found you again?"

He grinned at me. "I scammed you into buying newspapers from me for months, remember?"

"That does sound familiar," I chuckled. The thought of the oncoming day still made me a bit nauseous, and I fought the urge to grab my boyfriend again as he passed me. "I wish we could go away again, just you and me, like we did when we stayed at the beach," I groaned, dragging my fingers through my hair.

Standing behind me, he rubbed my shoulders, leaning down to kiss my cheek. "Do you want to go this weekend, then? We could see if we could stay at the same place as last time - it was cheap enough and the lady who owned it was lovely."

"We're both busy, Carlisle; you've got your projects, and no doubt my boss will land me with something over the weekend." A sigh hissed between my teeth at the thought of it; I would have killed to be able to pack up and leave for a few days. "And who would look after Fox? But God, that would be so good." I shoved my breakfast down my throat before I could make myself late, and I was kissing Carlisle goodbye all too soon. This morning had been lovely, but today was still going to suck.

.

.

Poor Riley was off sick with the same bug Carlisle and I had just recovered from. As much as I felt sorry for him, it also made work a whole lot less tolerable for me; my boss's harsh words dug a little deeper when I couldn't go crying to him. It hurt a lot more when I didn't have support in the building - I was starting to understand how awful my boyfriend felt with all he went through with his job when I couldn't be there.

My anxiety was going through the roof. Every time I got yelled at, it got harder and harder for me to breathe, and it wasn't long until I was shaking so badly I wasn't sure I could stand. A few of my coworkers were throwing glances in my direction, but no one said anything.

"Get it together, Parker," my boss grumbled. "You're an adult; now isn't the time for tears. Just do your damn job, are you completely useless?"

'Tears' hadn't been an option until he said anything, but suddenly my eyes were burning. Stupidly, I'd left my phone in my locker, and I really, really wanted Carlisle. He was on the other side of the city without a vehicle, and we didn't have a way to contact each other, so all of this was stupid.

He dumped more work onto my desk and stalked off. I just ducked my head. My lungs were too tight and the lump in my throat made me want to puke. I couldn't breathe and I couldn't think and I wanted Carlisle so, _so_ bad but no one was helping me and he wasn't here and I couldn't go home and-

"Garrett…" The woman who sat across from me was now standing, awkwardly hovering from five feet away. We didn't speak normally, so her interest in me was purely to make herself more comfortable. My heart was going to hammer out of my chest though - I was going to have a heart attack. My chest kept cramping, the pain radiating through my ribs as I panted for breath.

I pressed my fingertips into my desk, the burning what I needed to concentrate. I wasn't sure how long I sat there, unable to breathe and unable to think and sure I was going to fucking die but unable to tell anyone to do anything. Suddenly, warm hands closed over my shoulders, pausing there before gently wrapping around me. I fought the urge to slam my elbow into their ribs for touching me.

But then they were pressing gentle kisses against my cheek, pulling my chair out from desk when I sat up and turning me to face them. "Carlisle…" His name came out as a plea for him to get me out of here, as much as I was relieved to see him.

He crouched in front of me, letting me pull him closer and rubbing the back of my neck as I leaned my head on my shoulder. "Hey, Riley said you weren't feeling so good."

"Riley isn't here," I told him, dumbfounded. The pain was easing now, as was the shaking, and I was starting to be able to think enough to be embarrassed about the scene I was making.

"No, but someone told him, and he called me. What's going on?" he corrected gently.

"How did you get here?" I still couldn't get past him actually being there in the first place.

"Does it matter, Gar? What's happening?"

"I don't know- I don't know what's wrong with me, Carlisle, I feel sick and I can't breathe and I wanted to call you but-"

"I'm here now," he soothed, kissing my forehead. His hand cupped the side of my face, brushing his thumb over my cheek as I buried my face in his shirt. "Let's get you home. Can you walk to the car? I can drive." His fingers found my waist, squeezing me as I fidgeted with the fabric of his shirt.

"Yeah- yeah, I can walk, I'm okay, just-" I rambled on and on, but he was already starting to pack my things back into my bag and getting me to my feet.

"Let's go home, Garrett." He took my hand, gently lacing our fingers together. "Do you want me to talk to your boss?" The elevator dinged as the doors shut, and Carlisle hugged me again.

"I'm sorry," I groaned, rubbing my hands over my face. "I'm sorry you had to come all the way over here to get me-"

"Garrett," he interrupted. "You looked after me for months. Jesus, you're _still_ looking after me; that's probably the cause of all this. You need a break."

"I can't ask for one; I have no more paid leave left, and he's going to yell at me if I ask for another day off."

"Then I'll ask him."

"Then he'll yell at you; I don't want that."

"He can yell at me all he wants; I don't care." The doors opened again and he led me out into the car park, letting me put him between the receptionist and me as we left the building. "He can't fire me."

" _I_ care; I love you..."

"He can't hurt me, Gar." Physically, probably not, but if he screamed at him, I had no doubt that Carlisle wasn't going to be in a good way either. I really needed him to be stable for me right now.

"I-I'll email him; I just want to go home. Please, Carlisle, I've embarrassed myself enough today," I pleaded.

"Okay, I'll get you home," he murmured to me, hugging me as we leaned against the car door. "It'll be okay. Are you going to be sick?"

"No, I don't think so, just need to get out of here…" The car beeped as he unlocked it, and he helped me sit back in the passenger's seat. "How'd you get here so fast?" I asked again.

"Riley called me, and I caught a taxi over here," he told me softly, rubbing the tops of my arms.

"God, that must have cost a fortune," I groaned.

"It was going to take too long for me to get here on a bus, Gar, I wasn't about to leave you that long by yourself when you weren't feeling good." This time he brought our lips together, a small smile on his face as our eyes met.

.

.

Carlisle had to spend the rest of the afternoon taking care of a blithering idiot. We ate icecream for lunch, and he stayed cuddled up with me on the couch while I whined about my job - just like we used to before we lived together, really. I also finally understood why he found the cat so comforting; he'd set her in my arms as soon as we had gotten in the door, and I hadn't put her down since, loving her purring and the feeling of her little paws weaving in and out of my clothing. She was a lot bigger now, chubbier and longer and all around bossier. She was perfect. So was he. My perfect little family.

"You doing okay?" he asked softly, rubbing the back of my hand.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I mumbled. I didn't feel as horrible now that I was home, and now that I had him. "Sorry that you had to come, I really don't know what happened there."

"Don't apologise; you always tell me not to. We're both as bad as each other."

"We're a mess together," I grinned. Sliding my hands under Fox, I dumped her on Carlisle knee, wrapping my arms around him and dragging him into my lap. "I hate it as much as I love it."

He leaned his head on my shoulder, his fingers shifting through my hair. "I love you too."

"I feel like I'm going crazy." The kisses he was pressing against my jaw were a little distracting, and I didn't feel _quite_ so crazy while he wanted to be with me like this.

"You're not, Gar, you're stressed. Are you taking the day off work tomorrow?" Fox jumped off of him annoyed with me moving her, and he shifted onto his knees to push me back against the couch.

My hands landed on his waist. In my peripheral vision, I was aware of the cat licking our empty bowls which still sat on the coffee table, but I was having problems focusing on anything other than my boyfriend. "There's no way I'll be allowed, and it's a friday anyway, I'll cope. Just, maybe...keep your phone on you?" I tried not to sound too pleading, but it didn't work, and he caught on immediately.

"I will, just don't leave yours in your locker." The teasing hit a little too close to home. I groaned and pulled him hard enough that he collapsed into me, burying my face in his shirt and refusing to let him back off. The weight of his body on mine was comforting, as was the smell of him and the warmth that radiated through his clothing. "I love you so much."

"I love you too. Everything will be okay, Garrett."

.

.

The next morning rushed up far too quickly. As soon as I'd reached the office, I'd been told that my boss wanted to see me. I felt like a little kid, sitting in one of the chairs outside of his office while I waited for him to call me in. My heart was beating too fast in my ears, and it was very reminiscent of visiting the principal's office in primary school for being naughty in class.

"Come in, Mr Parker," he murmured as he opened the door, letting another one of my colleagues out as he let me in.

I took a deep breath to steady myself, and tried to stay collected as I sat in front of his massive desk. It was hard not to fidget; I didn't want to show him how nervous I was, but I was pretty sure he was going to yell at me for something.

"Garrett, you're being let go." His tone was stern and final, and I was sure that was the first time he'd ever said my first name without screaming in my face.

"…let go…?"

"The company can't support its current amount of employees; a quarter of you are no longer needed. You're one of those people; we're making you redundant." He let it sink in for a second before continuing. "Go and pack your desk; I want you out of here before lunch time. The company will be sending out your final paycheck before the end of the week."

Out of words, I just nodded dumbly, stumbling blindly back into the hallway when he told me I could leave. I glanced down at the person in the waiting room, knowing they had the same fate – and it was the guy who worked two cubicles down from mine, looking as nervous as I felt.

As I shoved what little shit I kept there into a box, I couldn't stop my hands from shaking. My stomach hurt and I felt sick. I wasn't sure what was making me more nervous; having had to face my boss, or having to tell my boyfriend tonight. We'd just moved house, for god's sake, I couldn't uproot him again. Not after everything that had happened. Not after we'd just found our footing again after what seemed like the shittiest six months we'd spent together. I couldn't put him through that.

I couldn't _not_ tell him, either, though the prospect was appealing. I didn't know how I was going to. Thankfully, I had quite a few hours to stew over it before he came home, but it also left too much time to think.

Within two hours of leaving for work, I was home again. Fox chirped and ran to me, and I picked her up to hug her as I glanced around at the boxes in our kitchen. Carlisle had finished unpacking everything a few days ago. And now I had to tell him that we had to put all that stuff back again.

I was kind of glad he wasn't home. I needed to sort my shit about before I had to face him. Not knowing what his reaction was going to be was making it all the worse; I didn't want him to have a panic attack, of all things, but mostly I just couldn't stand the thought of him being disappointed in me.

Sitting in our half-furnished kitchen, I kept the cat on my knee. It's been hard enough to find a home where we could keep her once, and now we'd have to do it again on a smaller budget. If Carlisle would stay with me, that was. Otherwise I'd be 27 and moving back to my parent's place.

It made my head hurt, and I felt like I needed to vomit; it would kill him if he couldn't keep the cat. Fuck, I was sure he would keep the cat over keeping me; at least she didn't fuck up. Like I used to when things went wrong, I contemplated calling Eleazar, but I didn't want to tell him either.

Too dizzy and nauseous to move, I stayed sitting there, just watching the clock and counting the hours until my boyfriend came home and all hell broke loose. Fox eventually got sick of sitting with me and left, but I couldn't force my limbs to cooperate to get up, so I stayed put.

I almost threw up when I heard his key in the lock, suddenly fixated on the door instead of the clock. Our door always jammed a little, needing to be jiggled in just the right way, and it was hard to do when your hands were full.

"You didn't answer your phone, so now you have to put up with what I picked for dinner," he teased me as he shut the door behind him. There would be no complaint from me; I was sure he'd purposefully picked my favourite, judging by the bag he was holding. Putting the food on the bench, he scooped up the kitten as she cried at his feet. "You're back early, was it quiet at work today? And you still can't answer my texts." He was mock-scolding me, but I couldn't smile. It was taking everything I had not to fucking cry.

I glanced down at the screen of my phone, managing a sad grimace at his attempts to get my attention a few hours earlier; four texts and a couple of missed calls, slightly impatient but still sweet. I hadn't even felt the damn thing vibrate. "…Carlisle…"

He was still oblivious. "She's getting bigger; feel how heavy she is now." Without warning, he put Fox in my lap, but instead of automatically grabbing her like normal, I found myself reaching for him.

"…Carlisle…" I repeated, nauseous with nerves as I slid my arms around his waist.

Glancing down at me, his smile faded. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" He sat next to me, interlocking our fingers and kissing the back of my hand.

"…I lost my job…" I told him as steadily as I could muster. I couldn't look at him, though; I didn't want to see his expression. The cat meowed at us, and I bit back tears as I watched her. "I-I'm so sorry…I know we just moved here and now I have to put you through that again and you have to find another landlord who will allow pets a-and-"

He cut me off with a gentle kiss, shifting a little closer to hug me. "We'll deal with, Garrett; don't panic."

"But we'll lose the house and I don't want to do that to you, and I don't want this to be the reason that we…" I couldn't get the rest of the words out without having a breakdown, so I shut my mouth instead.

"Hey, whatever happens, you won't be losing me," he reassured me softly, running his fingers through my hair to get it off my face and force me to look at him. "It'll be okay. I can pick up a couple of extra jobs, and we can deal with it."

"I don't want you to have to do that…"

"It won't be forever; I can manage."

"Carlisle," I argued, unable to place why he was being so calm about this. I would have lost my shit by now, had this been the other way around.

"You've done far more for me than I ever have for you; you've put up with so much of my shit over the last few months, this is nothing. We can get through this."

"God, I love you." I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into me.

"I love you too, Gar. We'll be okay."

.

.

That night, I waited for him to push me away, or at least hold me at arms length. He didn't, wrapping his body around mine in bed and cuddling into me like normal. I was wired and unable to sleep, yet he was relaxed and his breathing was even as he leaned his head on my chest. "Breathe, Garrett," he murmured softly, briefly tightening his hold on me.

"I can't," I whispered back. My stomach hurt and I didn't feel good.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he sat up to look at me. "What are you worrying about?" he asked softly.

"Us, I guess…" I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, needing him close again. Thankfully, he let me pull him into me, pressing a kiss against my neck.

"We'll be fine." More kisses, this time against my jaw, continuing until our lips met. "We can find a way to manage. We can make this work." He hugged me tightly, seeming hyper aware of all the tension in my body. "Do you want to watch TV for a bit?" He waited until I forced myself to nod, and then helped me sit up.

I didn't care what we watched, I just wanted him to stay awake with me. Being left alone with my own thoughts seemed horrifying, and I needed Carlisle to stay with me. He made us both warm drinks and sat next to me on the couch, switching on something mindless for us to watch. Wanting him to cuddle me again, I shifted to lie with my head on his thigh, relaxing a little as his hand landed on my shoulder, rubbing my arm. "I don't want this to be the end of us," I mumbled to him.

"I don't want it to either. I love you; it's not going to be."

.

.


End file.
